I just officially finished my first bow, sewing on a leather grip and fastening a tiny bead and feather accent into place for the final detail. It looks fantastic, all beautiful slightly yellowed wood with intricate, deep maroon and gold paint detail and a rich brown string and leather handle. The back of the bow is all sinew, so it has a really unique texture, the glass bead fades from orange to chocolate in just such a way that it seems as though it's glowing, and the contour feather is shimmery rust-red on the edges and a mottled dark and ivory pattern along the inside. Not to mention the arrows, which are all painted along the shaft and fletched by hand with the steel trade points showing just enough rust to give them some character. Everything is just gorgeous, I couldn't have imagined making a prettier piece.
It's an incredible and overwhelming feeling, having accomplished something I've been working on for half a year now. Stringing up the bow and pulling it a few times felt so powerful, even though I'm dead tired and standing around in my pajamas I got excited about the adventures I'm going to have. I can actually pull it and anchor it to my cheekbone! My biggest problem with using Maurizio's bow at the shed was that I couldn't anchor it, so I couldn't adjust for mistakes correctly, but it also doesn't help that his draw length is significantly lower than mine and I was probably trying to pull much more than 50lb on that bow. Learning to shoot will be a task, but I absolutely cannot wait to let the first arrow fly.
Mom told me that Grandpa would be proud. It's hard not to be sad that he isn't here to see this, to see that pride in his eyes firsthand, but I feel so much closer to him now that I've brought a small piece of his life into mine. This bow is for him and of him, it is a reminder of the impact he had on my life even though he left it so early.
Thank you for everything, Grandpa Beiler. I love you. I miss you.
