Making a flute requires a special state of mind and heart if the flute is to have a "Spirit" worthy of it's heritage and traditions. It all begins with the wood, and we spend a lot of time just finding wood we believe wants to be a flute. Sometimes it's an old Cedar fence post, it might be a unique branch from a tree recently passed or something I found in our Beaver's dam. We like working with the, so-called, "Exotic" woods from tropical rain forests too. While the destruction of those forests is heart breaking, I believe we can give life back to a piece of wood by making it into a flute. The forest may be gone but that flute sings a memory of another place and time.

Once a piece of wood has been selected, I bring it into the wood shop and let it "acclimate" itself. I often do a "smudging" ceremony to invite the spirits to aid me in crafting the finest instrument possible. My goal is to let the spirit of the tree sing anew, and in that respect, I need all the help I can get.

Then I begin the crafting process. I'm mindful of the way our Native American Ancestors crafted their flutes. And while I use power tools they didn't have available, my belief is that if they'd had a table saw and router, they would have used them. They did, however, come up with a wonderful process we understand and emulate.

Typically I have something in mind when I start, but that doesn't mean the flute can't speak to me and make me change directions; believe me, it's happened more than once. After the flute is together, I do a very careful voicing which begins with tuning the flute's lowest pitch; it's "fundamental" note. Once that's done, I usually leave the flute for a day to again, let it acclimate. Then the individual finger holes are placed and tuned. I make every attempt to tune the flute such that it may be played with another instrument; however, anyone with any musical experience understands how difficult this is.

I'll tune the flute in my shop, at the temperature the shop happens to be and whatever the humidity that day is. Tomorrow, when any of that changes, the pitch is likely to change as well. That's why concert instruments have tuning devices; tuning pegs on guitars and individual joints in clarinets, for example, exist to allow fine tuning each time the instrument is played. These flutes are tuned at the time they are made and can't be adjusted. Accordingly, the phrase, "Concert Tuning" doesn't make much sense. They may be concert tuned the day they are made, but in another setting all that may change.

After I'm happy with the tuning process, I'll finish sanding the surface, apply any decoration, and then "Seal" the flute. I use a dip tank so that the entire flute is submerged in the finishing compound including all the inside chambers. Once that finish is dry, I sand with a very fine grit and dip again. Then, I'll sand again and wipe just the outside with more finish so that each flute will have at least three coats of finish. Finally I wax each flute and "hand rub" the wax into the grain. I apply two coats of wax at construction and another before the flute leaves my shop if needed. My choice of wax is "Briwax" which is a blend of Carnuba and Beeswax thinned with turpentine. Totally non-toxic, Briwax provides good protection and a lovely shine.

I'm proud of the flutes we make at White Elk Flutes. We don't sell "seconds." If a flute is defective in appearance or it doesn't play as well as I'd like, I fix it or it's disposed of. Any flute leaving here is as fine an instrument as I'm capable of making. My goal is to produce a flute that's easy to play and beautiful to look at. When you play a White Elk Flute, you will feel your spirit soar as you breathe life into a piece of wood that once stood proudly decorated with leaves and a resting place for birds and other creatures.

This is my process, these are the things that are important to me and the things that bring me great joy and pleasure as each flute is formed into something special. May these flutes bring as much satisfaction to you as crafting them brings to me.