Hello, April...

...such a tumultuous, topsy-turvy month. I'm gearing up for the first of five (I think, maybe it's six) events in three months, things are alternately blooming and hiding because our weather has been so unseasonably warm and then briskly chilly, and my - excuse me, our sixteenth wedding anniversary was last Friday.

From one of my morning walks last week. Georgia at its most colorful...from late March through early May. :)

As usual, life is in a bit of an uproar.

We did manage to get away this year, and celebrate the anniversary in Highlands, NC, just over two hours from Roswell. One of our favorite mountain towns here in the Southeast; it reminds me the most of Prescott, AZ. Downtown charm, good food, friendly folks. And of course, all that gorgeous mountain scenery. Of which we didn't really get to see. Because we didn't hike the falls, climb the gorges, take the photos...because it was DAMN COLD. Like 39 degrees, with 25 mph gusts. Brett is always hot and was quite happy in this weather. I, on the other hand, run very cold and was FREEZING for most of the weekend.

We made the most of it though, doing some teriffically yummy dining  and drinking, and buying some small treasures for the home. A pair of candle holders, a photo of a mountain vista to frame and hang, a small Raku vessel to complement one we already have...bits and pieces of art and decor are finding their way home to Roswell:

I got a little carried away with the closeness of the camera, but this is our newest ceramic piece from Harry Hearne, an NC potter whom I first met (and purchased from) at the Tennessee Craft festival in September of 2014. Purchased from Smitten

A small indulgence for my bath time. These are so ridiculously fantastic smelling. Especially that prosecco bellini...

A cool weathered-looking pot for Brett's ever-expanding collection of plants. From C K Swan

These will be so much fun with tealights inside. :)  From The Summer House

And now it's studio time, all the time, until next Friday when I head to Melbourne, FL for the Melbourne Art Festival. I'm currently mid-process with....well, a LOT of things. As is usually the case right before a festival. It seems like no matter how much I work on designs, there's still that week-before-the-show-I-just-don't-have-enough-finished craziness...I'll be working on finishing designs straight through next Thursday. And then..look out Florida! I'm coming back! :)

David and Dylan

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This is not what I was planning on posting, but today we lost a light...a light that burned exceptionally brightly for generations. And burned so very brightly, to the very end.

David Bowie kept his cancer a secret from many, and for nearly two years, worked on his last studio album, and by all accounts, valiantly fought the good fight...but today his light was extinguished.

I don't have the words. Part of my growing up - "Let's Dance", "China Girl", "Modern Love" in the 1980s and 1990s in particular, "Under Pressure" with Queen, and so much more...his passing is a stinging reminder that those days are gone, never to return. And while I'm grateful for all that he gave the world...I grieve.

So for today, the most fitting thing I could find is a classic (and old favorite of mine since I first read it in college). Dylan Thomas' Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night:

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

*I bolded the fifth paragraph as it seemed the most fitting description of how Bowie lived his last days...and indeed, his whole life. R.I.P. 

No Mud...

...no lotus. So the saying goes. And I've had my share of mud in the last year. Which is okay. I don't mind rolling up the sleeves and getting dirty when necessary. It's that much more satisfying when the growth occurs. But...also, "everything in moderation". And there's the rub.

My life has not been my own (or at least it has not felt like it) for the last few years. It's been driven, crazy, exhausting, demanding...and while it's not been without rewards, I am feeling the need to make some major changes. I love what I do and have no plans to stop doing it...but I am looking to change the shape of things. To run my business instead of feeling like my business is running me. To take even more moments to appreciate, to breathe deeply, to pause...to be grateful. Maybe...to even take a vacation at some point. :)

One of the things I miss is this blog. I feel that there's no time to share here anymore. And I'm finding that some of those life changes I want to make are taking the shape of going back to my younger days, when things like reading poetry (and really, reading anything besides Facebook or online articles or industry publications) were a part of my focus. I am also culling my "things" - as I tend to do every year around this time, shedding what no longer works, no longer "fits", and making way for new potentials...or sometimes... being deeply contented with less.

So I thought that I would start sharing poetry and other things that move me, capture my attention, or seem relevant, here on the blog. Doing so will allow me to share the wonderful writings of others, and keep the blog somewhat updated. ;) And of course there will be jewelry too! I have big, big plans for this year and I hope you'll like the fruits of my labors as they are shared here. :)

So here's my first contribution, a Japanese Haiku from a small but beautifully illustrated book of poems (http://www.amazon.com/Haiku-Poetry-Ancient-Jackie-Hardy/dp/0804838585):

the lantern blown out ---

the sound of the wind 

through the leaves

- shiki

Brett and I "blew out" last year's lantern in the company of a few good friends, at a quiet gathering in their lovely home. Such a pleasure to be with people who have known you well for years...everything is so easy and comfortable. Just what was needed after a rather tumultuous year. 

Here's to a wonderfully happy 2016 for everyone! I hope it's filled with joy. I wish you all the best.

-Jill

Where to Go from Here?

I haven't been regularly keeping up with the blog...some of you would say, "Well, when *were* you, Jill?" ~wry smile~ I never seemed to have enough time for it. And now, suddenly, it seems a somewhat old and clunky format to share with you, friends and followers. I've been much more active on Facebook and Instagram than I have here, posting photos of new designs (almost) as soon as they're created.

And I've struggled with keeping up with making new designs - not for lack of designs, but for lack of time...same old, same old. Only so much two hands can do....which doesn't leave a lot of time for writing (hopefully) interesting blog content.

While I don't want to shut down the blog entirely, I think it's going to be much more photo-focused with less text. This may end up redundant for those of you who follow me on Instagram or Facebook, and if so, I apologize. But there's just never enough time...and my main love is the making, not writing about, the jewelry. :)

So, without further ado, let me share the Sweet Somethings creations:

These came about because while I've been pushing myself to design bigger and bolder, I also wanted something on the other side of the spectrum. Something sweet, and wearable for everyday, if so desired. Something smaller than my usual designs, that would layer with other necklaces...like little dollops of sweetness around the neck. :)

They've actually turned out to be quite fun to design and make, because they come together much more quickly than the big statement pieces. I can make up a batch and feel like I've gotten a lot done, instead of taking days at a time for the larger  and more complex designs. And they still hold true to my design aesthetic of balanced asymmetry. 

From top to bottom: chrysocolla, druzy, larimar, peruvian opal, shattuckite, turquoise, druzy. 

They are available here: blue piranha web site and here: blue piranha on Etsy

Eye for Detail(s) and Being Extraordinary

I am very big on detail. I love basics that are tweaked. A simple black top with an artfully draping neckline, or a surprise slit sleeve. Basic boots with a combo of leather and suede, instead of just one or the other. Interesting buckle detail. A bit of lace in an unexpected place. Braided straps. Embroidery. Laser cuts. Patinas. Funky zippers. I could go on…you get the gist. I own very few “basic” basics. I like them to have some added zing. 

If you go to my "In the Closet" Pinterest page, here:  Jill's Pinterest

you'll see what I mean. The items shown there are have stand-out color or some other detail that elevates them. I spent a decade in retail, surrounded by beautiful clothes, shoes, and accessories at my fingertips, and I don't think I've ever recovered. Nor do I want to. :)

This is the same approach I bring to furnishing and decorating my house, and to my jewelry designs. Special details, like an unusual shape, an interesting texture, a marvelously and unusually colored gem. All those little fillips of pleasure that just make your heart sing. Why be ordinary?

Texture detail on the back of a pendant. I like them to be finished well and visually interesting on *both* sides. :)

In an entirely different market, Christian Louboutin sells red nail polish for $50. Yes, you read that right. $50 for a simple bottle of nail polish. Except...it's not ordinary:

Sephora Sells Louboutin Nail Polish

It's a CRYSTAL bottle. With a SEVEN-inch tall handle. Same heel height as his tallest shoes. Mr. Louboutin is also apparently quite big on the details that make a difference.

Crazy, right? Except that the first run sold out. And what did Mr. Louboutin have to say about his over-the-top design and price? For uh...red nail polish?

“There is no need to add an ordinary product to the beauty category. This is extraordinary.”

And well, why not? *I* didn't buy this nail polish (but I'm not what you'd call a beauty industry "big consumer"). But for beauty / cosmetics lovers, $50 isn't a whole lot, relatively speaking. 

But the sentiment...why add anything ordinary? Why, indeed? When you can be / make / design / create / enjoy the EXTRAordinary? 

As Todd Reed has said: 

I'm not interested at all in making jewelry easier or less expensive.

Same thing, no? Todd believes in the story of each design, the originality of each, the uniqueness. Each piece is handmade. No casting, no reproductions. He doesn't want to add anything ordinary to the jewelry category.  

And y'know....neither do I. I want to make designs that make my heart sing. That make YOUR heart sing. That shine in loveliness and fine craftsmanship. In fact, that's one of my overriding goals for 2015: to make even more original, extraordinary designs. To be even more extraordinary. 

I hope it's one of yours, too.... :) 


*Sorry for the font issues in this post. I can't seem to get it all to one font...or appropriate bold areas...or anything...

The Business of Art (Festivals)

"Faith, noun - sending $500 entry fee to an art show taking place half way across the country in unknown weather conditions in 5-7 months, where you will be trying to sell artwork you haven't yet created in an economy which may implode anytime between now and then." - Stephen Bach, landscape artist

The above quote was posted by Mr Bach on an internet forum for all things related to art festivals. And it is exactly true. I spent a great deal of time recently, working on my potential schedule for 2015. I say potential, because so far I have no idea if I will actually be exhibiting at any of these events...

The way art festivals work is that you submit photographs of your work, and your booth, for judging. The industry term is *jurying* but make no mistake...it's judging. Judging whether or not you will fit in some very narrow parameters. And the people who are judging you? They have about 30 seconds to make the decision(s) that will affect your abiltiy to exhibit. Because if the jury doesn't give you a high score, you're not allowed to show up and play. Or (sometimes) worse, you're placed in limbo...the art festival Wait List.*

And how tough is the competition? One of the shows states: 

"145 artists are slected from a jury pool of approx. 1300 applicants". 

Y'know what that works out to? An 11 percent chance of being accepted. About ten people have to be rejected for me to make it...and my odds aren't even that good, because the jewelry category has more competition than the rest. So a good number of those applicants will be applying for MY category...which means more of them will have to be told "no" for me to get the chance to exhbiti at this festival. 

And, we artisans pay for the privilege of having our work juried. Most festivals charge a "jury fee" of anywhere from $25 to $55. That's just to have 'em look at you. Non-refundable, of course. These add up to hundreds and even thousands for artists who will apply to many festivals, often some overlapping on the same weekend, just to hope that they can get invited to one of them. Some of my spots on the calendar above have three post-its on them, because I'm applying to three events. 

If we are fortunate enough to get accepted, we then pay a space or booth fee to the festival. This ranges, from $200 on the low end (though many of those are now $300) to $1000 at the high. And that's with no guarantee of a return on your investment, of course. You pays your money and you takes your chances...

The most I've ever paid for a festival booth? $775. That's a big commitment with no guarantee of return. I think the odds may be better in Vegas. :) 

Often, exhibiting at arts festivals means traveling, which means that even a $300 booth fee (plus that $35 jury fee) isn't the only expenditure. There are hotel stays, food, gas, and any other necessary expenses. If the show hours extend late and you want electricity (assuming the festival provides it)? That's another charge. Most out of town events will require at least a two night stay, and that's assuming you can arrive on Friday night, set up EARLY Saturday morning, and leave Sunday evening...but a lot of festivals have scheduled set up hours. And some only allow you to set up the day *before* the event. Which means an additional hotel night...and more meals to buy. 

And I'm not even going to get into what happens if you make it to a festival and the weather is uncooperative...we all just hope for the best, all the time. There's no eternal optimist like an artist. :) 

I'm not saying any of this is good. Or bad. It's just what is. The art festival life is a game of chance, and like any other gamble, sometimes it pays off, and sometimes it doesn't. 

So. The next time you take yourself to an art festival, you might pause for a moment and consider what the artists have gone through to get themselves in front of YOU. Support them, if you can, if you like the work, if you have a budget for some handmade jewelry, ceramics, paintings...it's not necessary, of course, if you can't. 

But know that they're not their for the great fun of it all...though festivals can be great fun!!...they're there because they love what they do. They love it so much they are willing to live an often very uncertain existence, with no regular income, a life that is subject to a LOT of rejection, sometimes, to continue to put goodness and art and beauty into the world. And they (we), hope...that you will love it too. :)

Now I'm off to actually make some jewelry. For those future festivals... :) 


* Wait Lists are the artisan version of Hell. Because you don't know IF or WHEN you might get called off of the wait list...so you can't *really* plan around it. You either have to assume you won't be exhibiting at that festival,....but you are always hoping (eternal optimist!) that you'll get an email or a call saying that a space has opened for you. And to be called off the wait list means that someone else had to cancel. So...it's bad news for someone else, good news for you. A bit of Schadenfreude, that. Sometimes an outright rejection is actually easier because it's like ripping off a band-aid. Wait list status is like you're hoping the band-aid will come off at some point...but not ever knowing if it will. 

Back Glancing, Forward Looking

The last three years have seen a huge transformation, both personally and professionally. I've grown, shed some things that weren't working, am in the process of shedding more, opened myself up to a world I didn't even realize I existed (and it has been more rewarding in ways I could never have imagined), stretched, risked, gambled, stumbled, cried, lost, fallen...and gained...and loved and been loved so very greatly I can hardly believe it.

What a whirlwind! It culminated in the last two months of 2014 being utterly exhausting, finding myself stretched as thin in some ways as I ever have been, barely able to rally by the end of the year, eventually giving in to illness, physical pain, frustration.

But this year...I'm not sure why, but 2015 feels like hope, to me. The pain isn't gone, the struggles still exist, but there has been a fundamental shift slowly building over all this time, and it's coalescing in so many ways. I feel clearer, cleaner, stronger, more determined and ready to move forward than I have in a long time. Soaking in life and lessons like a thirsty sponge, planning, thinking, deciding...choosing paths and setting strategies.

One of 2014's trials-and-errors that worked...Peruvian opal earring fancies. :) 

It's been about six weeks since I've laid my hands on any metal, lit the torch, set any gorgeous gems. That's a long time for me...and yet, it's been necessary. Jewelry fabrication is physically hard on the body. And sometimes it's hard on the mind. And last year I ran, and ran...from one event to another, feeling overwhelmed even before the year began, tired, drained, wanting to do so much, and in reality, able to achieve so little.

A personal favorite from last year. Royston turquoise and amazonite.

And though I can't predict, or control, what will happen with my own physical abilities this year, I am restructuring things a bit to hopefully compensate for my limitations, allowing for a creative atmosphere and a lot of forward movement, an open doorway through which so many lovely treasures will come into being and much happiness will be shared.

I wonder how these will develop...interconnected pieces? Scattered gems? Time in the studio will tell... 

I hope you all have a very marvelous 2015, that you climb, and stretch, and move forward in your own ways, by leaps and bounds and that you thrive. That you resonate with happiness and fulfillment. I suspect you will...it seems like that kind of year. :)

Be well!

-Jill

Broad Ripple Festival Report

I just got home yesterday from the Broad Ripple Art Fair, in Indianapolis. And now I'm prepping for the Decatur Arts Festival this coming weekend. I have two (2.5, if I really push it) days to make some new pieces...

Fortunately I'm sharing a booth in Decatur and won't have a full display to fill (because as usual, I'm low on inventory). So I'm not feeling too pressured, but still....you know me, I like to have a lot of options available,even if they're not all on display at once. :)

So how was Broad Ripple? I KNOW you are wondering, right?? Well, results are mixed.

It was an easy show to do (aside from 8+ hours driving either way). I loved my space - which normally, since this is usually a warm-weather event - would be nicely shaded. It was still shaded this year, of course, but with weather in the 50s, I could have used a bit more sun. Sales were solid on Saturday and virtually nonexistent on Sunday. So I am divided on the shoppers. Those who did stop, chat, and purchase, seemed very knowledgeable about jewelry and other arts, maybe because we showed on the grounds of the Indinapolis Arts Center, which offers arts classes.

Those who came on Sunday seemed to be a very different crowd. As in, mostly not interested in art jewelry or art in general, just hanging at the event to entertain themselves. Nothing wrong with that...but if not enough people purchase art, not enough artists come back. And a show starts to die. Or at least slide downhill....that's never good.

Here's a booth shot:

Home away from home for two days. It's dark because of the shade, but I was happy with this setup. I didn't actually have a corner but there were two feet and a median next to me so I made a corner out of it. I like to use the extra space whenever possible.  :)

And this show has a big "gate fee" or entrance fee, of $15. I think that's a tad pricey for Indianapolis. I mean, I live in the Atlanta metro and we only have one art festival that charges (as far as I know), which is the ACC (American Craft Council) show. We're a much bigger city than Indy and though I thought that the art around me was excellent for the most part, I don't know that $15 to get in isn't kind of a turn-off to the customers...

But. I got a lot of love overall, and sold some wonderful one of a kind gem designs to discerning customers with good taste. :)

And there was this bonus:

Lilacs...one of my favorite flowers ever. And we can't really grow them here in Georgia. But there were HUGE bushes of them all around my space at the festival, and they smelled so lovely. Happiness in flower form. :) 

And now, on to the Decatur prep! Hoping to have some new goodies to share later this week!

Good Work Takes Time

The best things in life are to be savored. They are not rushed, they do not hustle, they are slow to birth. They demand focus. Attention to detail. An eye for balance that will not be satisfied...until it (finally) is. Designing jewelry is like that...it's not...quick. :)

It's even slower when your husband is between jobs (first time in twelve years!) - he says he's "on hiatus" - and looking for a play buddy. No worries; he has another job lined up. But his hiatus, while good for our relationship, has not exactly helped my productivity. I can't begrudge the time though, because we'll be married for fourteen years this coming Tuesday. And I think that's the most time we've had together since our honeymoon...I am supremely fortunate that right now my schedule has been as open and flexible as it is. Normally during March, I'd be traveling to at least two festivals. As it turns out (blessing in disguise, hmm), I exhibited at neither. So I could give the time to Brett, quality time to the relationship, time to the paintingprojectfromhell that started out as a simple dining room re-do and morphed into the living room. Which would be all fine and good, except that our living room has twenty-eight foot ceilings. And endless nooks and crannies, which require very tall ladders, and magic acrobatic feats of taping and painting. Not the easiest project to tackle..

Anyhoo, March is over. April is looking and feeling like Spring is finally arriving, and I am *almost* to the point of having a LOT of new designs to the nearly-completed stage...they're just all in the mid-process stage currently.

Like the one above. I've been working on several mosiac designs, and this is by far my favorite. The others are still getting the side-eye. :)  It needs oxidation, stone setting (a gorgeous labradorite will go into that oval on top) and final polishing. I didn't have the energy left in me today, after working on these:

Just a few of the nearly fifty cabochons I've bezeled, textured, backplated, and soldered together since early March. About twelve of them are ready for soldering on embellishments next week, and the rest need design time with me to figure out their embellishments. :)

And when I say, "just a few", I mean that there are a LOT more waiting (you may have noticed both the band-aid and the blister on my hand in the prior photo; there's another blister as well. These hands have been busy:

Beauty out of chaos, kids...that's how it works in my studio, at least...the messy part at the bottom is bits of the wire that I texture, cut, and shape for the embellishments. And who would guess that a Sharpie and painter's tape are *indispensable* jewelry-making tools?  :)

So. I've had a good, fun, busy March, but I'm glad it's behind me. I'm really looking forward to getting back to speed in April - I love making these "pop rocks" designs, and playing with all the stunningly fabulous gems, but I have a TON of other ideas in the works and want to get started on those, too...they're not-so-impatiently waiting...

Brett and I are heading off today, for a big weekend in Tennessee and Kentucky. Tuesday is our 14th wedding anniversary (I can't even believe it) and we're going to visit some new places, shop for art - we have a newly redone dining / living room that have needs - listen to some music, relax and enjoy a bit of a final "hurrah" before he goes back to work on the 14th. I'm ready to leave the pliers, files, hammers, and torch behind for a few days, rest my aching hands and shoulders, and just be for a little while. :)

Happy April, all! Hope it's a happy and productive month for everyone!

Mother Naure, Courage, Humanity

Yesterday I went out for a lunch with a fellow jewelry maker. It was wonderful. We talked and laughed and shared information. And had I known that it would be almost the last food (and water) I'd have for 12 hours, I might have eaten a bigger meal. ~wry smile~

I left the restaurant at 2 pm, and that's when my own personal nightmare (and a nightmare for millions of others) began. I couldn't get out of the area where the restaurant was located. Cars were totally gridlocked at all exits. I sat for THREE HOURS straight and managed to travel about 1 mile. Why? Because it was snowing...

 

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As innocuous as that sounds, I was in Atlanta. We were having a massive storm. And I was unfortunate enough to be right in the midst of the city's logjam. The snow came down thick and fast until about 8 pm that night, and around 1 pm all the city's schools decided to close early, the businesspeople were leaving to go home, and weather-related accidents were starting to happen. My local readers will understand exactly what I'm talking about (I know some of you were caught in this as well).

I finally turned the car around when the section of road going the other direction opened up a bit, and traveled about two miles. By now it was around 5 pm and streets were looking pretty slushy. I knew it was going to get REALLY ugly once it got darker and colder; everything would turn to sheets of ice. But I couldn't go anywhere. Less than ten miles from home and absolutely trapped in the sea of cars that also sat, idling, frozen, (you might say) in place.

By 6 p.m. I was thinking that I might have to sleep in the car. It was THAT bad. And it showed no signs of improving. I'd given up trying to get to the freeway, trying instead go home on surface streets. I know that they are usually more treacherous, but I was hoping to get out of the gridlock. Unfortunately there WAS no "out of the gridlock". Between 6 and 8 p.m. I was in laser-focus mode, alternately creeping and sliding through the hilly streets, eyeballing the other cars skidding in my direction, looking for parts of roadway with less icy areas, where there was still some crunchy snow. I'd break free from sitting in a line of cars and go ten, twenty feet, only to be blocked by another line of cars. I also hadn't eaten, had no water, hadn't gone to the bathroom, and was worried about running out of gas.

Around 8 p.m. I was stuck in another line of cars, and considering parking on the side of the road. I was stopped at a flat area and I figured it was at least a place where I could get out in the morning. But I really, really didn't want to sleep in my car if at all possible. I would have tried to walk home (as so many others did) but I was still five miles away and I knew I didn't have a five-mile walk  - in twenty degree weather - in me. So I stayed put. Eventually the line of cars started moving again, and I crept forward. I skidded around the banks of the Chattahoochee River, telling myself "don't skid to the right!" as I eyed the water. I watched the cars ahead of me fishtail. My GPS tried to take me through a subdivision, but I knew if I got onto those roads I'd never get back out. I needed to stay on the most traversed streets, so I continued on, even though doing so took me further from home. 

I stopped at the bottom of a wicked hill that wast my next turn, and I watched three other cars attempt it, start fishtailing, then turn around s-l-o-o-o-w-l-y and head back. I really thought that might be where I spent the night. I wasn't going back, but I wasn't sure I could go forward. Two more intrepid souls attempted the hill and they made it! I watched where they started, how they angled the car, when they hit the gas...and I took my shot....and I, too, made it. I crested the hill and inched onward, creeping and crawling, skidding and braking.

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Even when traffic gridlock wasn't an issue, the streets looked like this (that's the road, on the right side of the photo). Total ice.

I came to a crossroads...Holcomb Bridge, the main road that would take me home. Left was the way I needed to go. But it was packed with cars. By then it was after 9 pm and I didn't have it in me to sit in another line of cars - I was still four miles from the house and this line was massive. So I looked right. The road was mostly deserted, but I'd have to get up BIG hill. The biggest one I'd encountered so far. I wasn't sure I'd manage that...but I did. I got up the hill, passed an abandoned delivery truck, ran a red light (I needed the momentum), and made the next turn. Which brought me to the high school near my home. Three miles now. I was facing another crazy turn - a left followed by a quick right, because I was going into another hill immediately after the left turn and would again, need momentum. Tricky...but there was already a car ahead of me, skidding and sliding and finally, stuck in the middle of the intersection. I couldn't go through the intersection with that car there. So I thought to myself,"Well, I'm in an SUV. The snow in the median doesn't look too deep..." and before I could think about it further, I hit the gas. Front wheels over the median, all four wheels on the median, front wheels off the median, and then I was past it!

The next two miles were relatively peaceful (lack of traction notwithstanding!); streets were wide, with very few cars on the road, and I wasn't skidding too much. I started thinking that I might actually make it home (or close enough to finally walk). And then I got to a mile from home and had to stop. I was at the bottom of another hill, on a narrow road, and it was just littered with cars, both those abandoned in the street and those with drivers who were still trying to get home. I watched an SUV attempt to go up the hill, but it was blocked by the cars trying to come down, and it started sliding backwards. I realized that this was my last stop. I just wasn't going to make it any further in the car.

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This is the kind of navigating I am talking about. Not much room for managing your sliding and skidding...

So I pulled my car over to a flat area, hoping it would be far enough out of the way that no one would end up sliding into it once I left. The distance to home was one mile. The walk I regularly take around my neighborhood (sans snow, of course) is just under two miles. I knew the area and terrain. I'd be chilly, but if I got home, I'd have some dinner, some water, a bathroom, and my own bed. I started bundling myself up and grabbing anything I thought I needed, and while I was getting ready, two men began taking charge of the hill traffic. They held up the traffic at the top so the people at the bottom could go through, and then let the top cars come down.  So I got in line to go up, and I made it through. I can't tell you how I felt when I crested the hill and KNEW I could get to the church parking lot across the street from my subdivision. Which I did. And then I walked the quarter-ish mile home. I had on boots, but they didn't have any traction, so I very carefully navigated the street and then kept to the snow covered lawns to make it home - my neighborhood is very hilly and I didn't want to slip on the hills now that I was so close.

When I saw the house I nearly cried. I opened the garage door and I think that was the first time I'd taken a deep breath in nine hours. HOME!

It was 11 p.m.

I had spent 8.5 hours in the car, and half an hour walking, to navigate what is normally a twenty minute drive.

I have never been so happy to come home in my life.

***

So. It's an understatement to say that I didn't enjoy my day. It was awful. It was stressful. I hope to never, ever, have to do that again. But I learned a lot about myself:

First, that I have more fortitude than I thought I did. I nearly gave up on my travels several times. But I was really motivated to get home if at all possible. I was fortunate that there were no wrecks to block my way, no abandoned cars blocking the road so fully that I couldn't navigate through.

Many of my blog readers know that I'm from Arizona; I've never really driven in ice and snow. I tried to use common sense, I watched what other drivers did, what worked and what didn't work, and emulated the actions that worked. I laid on the gas to get up the hills even though I was afraid of skidding. I crept, foot cramped on the brake, infinitesimally down the big hills to try and minimize sliding.

Several times I was at a literal crossroads and had to just make a gut decision to try or not to try. I worried about going into the water, skidding off hilly roads into nothingness, and smashing into other cars (or them smashing into me). I was tired, sore, hungry, thirsty (the only things in the car were some leftover sunflower seeds of my husband's from a previous road trip, and - don't ask - a bottle of champagne, of which I eventually drank about a third). I had no bathroom break for nine hours. But at no point was I ready to quit. Which doesn't mean I didn't think about it. But each time I thought, "I'll just try to go a little further" and I was fortunate to get further, until I was close enough to continue on foot.

It's not the most courageous thing anyone's ever done, not by any means. But for me it took a lot of courage to continue, to persevere when I thought I couldn't. To believe in myself that I could actually get where I needed to go. If I hadn't, it wouldn't have been a personal failure - there were a lot of circumstances out of my control. Many others didn't make it home that night, and they DID sleep in their cars (or churches, or schools, or hotels, or others' homes). That's not their failure either; they did the best they could with what they had. Some of them were less fortunate than I. I'm not kidding myself - I know that I was very, very lucky to have gotten all the way home.

But I am proud of not giving up. For setting myself a plan and sticking to it until I had to make another plan. For being adaptable when I needed to adapt.

And I can tell you that it would have been a lot worse without my husband, my mom, my ATL girls (one whose husband was also stuck out on the road most of the night), who texted, called, Facebooked, and checked in on me regularly. They offered me their houses, updated me on the news, kept me sane and made me laugh. It would have been a lot less tolerable without them. My peeps: you all were so wonderful, thank you!!

I also want to recognize the total strangers who were a part of my journey. I wish I knew your names:

- the kids who stood out on Chamblee Dunwoody and urged motorists to use more momentum going up the long hill

- the stranded motorists on Eves Road who yelled and gestured and told me to "keep going, don't slow down, go, go go" as I climbed that crazy hill

- the two men I mentioned earlier who managed the traffic on Old Alabama, helping more of us to get, if not home, at least closer to our destinations

- the woman who, when I finally parked the car in the church parking lot and started walking, yelled "the church is open if you want to get warm!"

- and the people out for a stroll in my neighborhood, who yelled, "you okay, sweetie?" as I was plodding my way home. I told them I was. It wasn't a lie. :)

I am touched by the kindness of these random strangers. And all day today, while the city struggled, the people of Georgia went out into the streets, onto the frozen freeways, bringing water and food and blankets and medicine and god knows what else to those who didn't get home last night. Who might not be home still. Bless them all. Shining examples of humanity doing what it does best. I'm not a Southerner, but I can tell you I've never been prouder to be living here.

Carry on, all y'all. I love you even more than I did before.

source

A Little Post About Shrinkage

The sum total of today's output (so far). Great oaks from mighty acorns...

 
My husband tells me that I am an acquired taste...and yes, I am. I'm also not to everyone's taste...but that wasn't always so. Before I became an acquired taste, I was as bland as vanilla ice cream, as palatable as chamomile tea, and probably a lot more well-liked than I am now. Which is not to say that people don't like me...but the more *me* I become, inevitably I seem to be more of an "I don't know about her..." kind of girl. I might take some getting used to. Some people decide they don't like me. And that's okay.

What does that have to do with jewelry? Or the photo above, of the hundreds of tiny metal mosaic pieces I have just cut? Well..a lot, actually...

The very brilliant and perceptive Danielle LaPorte has an excellent post on her blog called, "The Real Reason Some People Are Bad for You" and I utterly agree with her perspective. It's about what we do in response to negativity from others. Go, read it now, and then feel free to share your thoughts...in the meantime, I'll share mine.  :)

This very much touches on the post I wrote here about self-love. I think that if you love yourself, and you're comfortable / happy with who you are, it *does* hurt to shrink. Not that it can't be done from time to time, in order to be graceful, or kind, or considerate of others, yeah, okay, you rein yourself in for a bit. But having to shrink one's self all the time is soul-killing.

And that will also kill a creative's spirit. I can't tell you how many times when people "talk" on some of my online chat groups they post things like, "Well, my husband denigrates my work" or "my family doesn't support me" or "I am not allowed (!!) to do thus-and-such". I have been there, and it's hurtful. It's demoralizing. These women are living small. And I get it (though I hate it); it's hard to live loud and proud when those around you want you to be small...or need for you to be small so that they can feel big. It's a power struggle and the person who shrinks themselves, who denies themselves, loses. Every time.

Now, I'm not saying that every creative should make a career out of what they love. It's risky, it's typically a very up-and-down roller coaster ride of finances, and it requires long, long hours of work to make the creations, then market and sell them. That can be hard on a family. And for every stay-at-home-mom who's "made it" on Etsy or eBay or elsewhere, there are at least a hundred others who don't. Or can't. Sometimes what you love should stay a passionate hobby. You can still create in your downtime from work, on the weekends, when the kids are asleep...there are options for the passionate hobbyist. If you love it, you'll continue to do it, in whatever measure. Unless you are in a relationship(s) where you and your creativity are constantly boxed in, denigrated...shrunken. Then you'll either leave, or give up your passion entirely for as long as you are in that situation.

But sometimes, it becomes more than you expected. My own designing started out as a hobby, and stayed that way, for nearly a decade. In fact, *I* didn't think about turning it into a business; it was Brett who suggested it, and then when I was laid off via a corporate merger in the early aughts, he really pushed me to pursue it. And owning and running my own business has been instrumental in allowing me to stretch and reach and to actually believe in myself (because when things seem impossible, and you're the only person standing up for yourself (because it's your business), you'd damn well better believe in YOU because YOU are the only thing that's going to get you through the rough times). It made me to develop a...shall we say, "stronger" personality so I wouldn't get pushed around. And the stronger part developed into the girl who didn't, who eventually couldn't, just shrink herself and make nice. Instead she stretched and grew and even occasionally roared when she had to. And I think once you do that, and do it long enough that it becomes who you are, you can't go back.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately as I am working on pushing the mosaic creations further, and as I work on creating bolder, bigger designs. The mosaics get a lot of attention; they sometimes even inspire awe (always very gratifying). But they are not for everyone. They're not the "be happy and play nice" of most of my more gemstone-focused designs. The stone-based pieces say, "Mmm! I like color! I'm a little bold! I don't mind asymmetry!" All true. All good. But there are others who want to adorn themselves with something that's really different. People who are comfortable being different. Who don't worry about what the rest of us think about them. The people who, as Wayne Dyer might say, have broken "from the tribe" and are forging their own paths.

Those are the people I find fascinating. The ones I strive to learn from. The ones I want to design for. They're living life on their own terms and yeah, that might not be to everyone's taste. They might have to grow on you...or maybe they won't. But they don't shrink and they don't worry about being judged...it sounds kind of nice, doesn't it?

I want the mosaic designs to be like that. Bold. You might have to consider them, get used to the idea. They might be an acquired taste...and that's totally okay.

As bold as I've gotten...so far. 

So all those little tiny bits of sterling in the photo above? They're just waiting to become something daring and different and wonderful. And to go to a good home with someone who appreciates their unique-ness.  :) 

Don't shrink yourself. For anyone. Expand, grow, emerge, bloom!  You won't regret it!

What's Your Announcement?

I'm feeling grateful for the internet today. I came across this again recently online (it was a Nike ad from years ago) and thought it very appropriate as we start a new year:

"You are born. And oh, how you wail! Your first breath is a scream. Not timid or low, but selfish and shattering, with all the force of waiting nine months under water. Your whole life should be like that: An announcement."

Do not hide yourself. Live loud and proud. Life is so much better when you do...

It has taken me years - literally, a lifetime - to be comfortable with this. To accept me. To accept me even when others tell me I am not enough, I do not do enough, I cannot give them what they want or need from me. I can only give what I can give...and I must tend my own needs as well or live a very unhappy life.

I don't often get "up close and personal" on this blog, but I do feel compelled to share things I feel very strongly about. And lately the subject of being happy with one's self has really been in focus for me. I have two good friends who seem to be struggling mightily with this and it hurts me to see them hurting. I have been there. I have struggled, feeling like I could not break away from my unhappiness. I thought it was part of me...I thought I was born with it. But I was not. It was a burden I carried but a few years ago I finally - finally - was able to release it. And when I did, that was one of the happiest days in my life. It was like I found the key to unlock the door and step out of my prison...it was earth-shattering and life-changing.

And I'm hoping mightily that the people I know, (and those I don't know) who are also struggling, will find their own keys to happiness. That they can claim a measure of peace that they so deserve...that we all deserve.  That they, some of whom are you, my loyal supporters, my fellow jewelry-makers, the wonderful, funny, amazing souls who do not see all their strange, awesome, individual wonderfulness - manage to find joy. It's there, out in the Universe, waiting for you to accept it...to accept yourself...to be able to choose happiness. Don't be afraid of "doing the work", as my therapist says. It's messy and painful and scary but I PROMISE that it's so much better on the other side...amazingly better than you'd ever believe. Whatever it takes to get you there - therapy, self-help books, leaving behind what you know to move forward, moving, divorcing (or conversely, committing)...whatever it takes to find acceptance and self-love...do it.

Make your announcement happy, bold, inspiring, joyful, triumphant...whatever form your own happiness takes. It doesn't mean that the whole world will love you. Or even like you, necessarily. But that ceases to matter when you truly love yourself. You'll be okay with you...and that's what matters.

Wishing you a wonderfully HAPPY 2014!!!

Reclaiming Me

Though the madness leading up to the end of any given year is crazy, often the actual winding down of the year is one of my favorite times. The introvert and the Virgo in me like staying at home, moving at a slower pace, organizing things and prepping and planning for the new year ahead. It's about getting my literal and metaphysical houses in order to move forward.

I haven't made any jewelry since the 20th, and it's been niiiiiiiice. I've needed the time away to rest, reflect, and consider what I'm going to do for 2014...to organize and gather, to shine a light on the path I want to travel for the coming  year. The peaceful cadence of doing these things soothes my frenetic soul from all the bouncing around the rest of the year seems to bring.

I've also been considering what I want to work on personally for next year, and I have two major items:

- being kinder. I usually start out in a good mood, but I get annoyed easily by minor things, and sometimes I get snappy. And even if I don't *say* anything, I will think rather uncharitable thoughts. I get a little snarky in my head, you could say...so I'm going to be working on changing that. Being more Zen about everything, and being more patient (haha, yes, I can hear some of you chuckling at that. I know...but a girl's gotta try).

- being more proactive. This applies to my personal life as well as the business. I've done some intense therapy work in the last few years, it's stirred a restlessness in me. I am wanting to meet new people, try new things, stretch and reach and feel more fulfilled. The last three years - since my jaw surgeries, in 2011 - have been tumultuous and messy and left me scrambling for balance. I've not recovered entirely from those years, but I am closer. And 2014 feels fresh and new and full of promise in a way that the last few have not.

I also need to be more proactive business-wise. I've touched upon this before in my blog posts, and I'm hopefully putting some things in place that will help me tremendously next year. I have two potential people who could come and help out with production and cleanup, and I'll be getting with them both after the new year to discuss further. I can't tell you how excited I am about this opportunity! I feel like the Universe is offering me what I need when I need it...and if it works out I am going to jump right on it.  :)

And I have a sketchbook full-full-full of new design ideas that are just waiting for me to get going on them...this is a year to stretch my designs and I can't wait. This downtime / away time from the torch and fabrication has been much needed...but I'm ready to go back next week. Last night I felt that familiar tickle in my head, thinking about creating, designing, the physicality of making. I'm almost ready to plunge in with both hands...

The year of the horse...very auspicious, I would think.  :) 

I hope that this is a fulfilling and rewarding year for all of you, too...my loyal peeps. Your support always touches me so much and I couldn't / wouldn't be where I am on this journey without you! Take care of yourselves, rest, and be happy. I look forward to many more adventures for all of us in 2014!

Motivations

“Each mistake teaches you something new about yourself. There is no failure, remember, except in no longer trying. It is the courage to continue that counts.” 
― Chris Bradford, The Way of the Sword

I needed this quote recently, after a rough day (well, rough several days) of feeling like I cannot reach any of the goals I'm striving for. All of the positives this year seem suddenly outweighed by the failures (or lack of successes?). I try very hard to not fall into those pits of despair that seem to litter the path...but occasionally it's like one just opens up beneath my feet and I can't avoid it.

So here I am, reminding myself of the stories of other people I consider successful, and how they've shared about their own struggles. Which is comforting. But only to a degree. I tell myself that I'm persistent, not a quitter, doggedly determined. And so I am...but maybe, just not right now. Right NOW I want to stamp my feet and throw something through the window. The sound of glass breaking can be very soul-satisfying...

We all need outlets for when we feel a bit sucker-punched, a bit like we've gone ten rounds and Do.Not.Want. to get back up off the mat. The outlet that has served me best in my life, ever since I was a teenager, is to write. I wrote poetry on a regular basis for twenty years, and then I made some changes in my life and didn't need the poetry outlet as much, so I've written sporadically in more recent years. Though I realize that some of my writing outlet has been channeled into my jewelry descriptions. I guess they're my way of sharing, of connecting with others. I look at at the stone and think about what it evokes for me, and then I try to elaborate on that. Often these relate to things I consider paramount in my own life, like nurturing the self, the soul, loving with a full heart, making changes and learning and growing spiritually, etc.

The tricky part is to not write descriptions when you're feeling like I have been feeling lately...or at least, try very hard to not let your anger or frustration seep into your writing...

"The hardest blows are the unexpected ones. When the person you shared a friendship with turns on you, the door you thought was open is not just closed but bolted shut, the blue skies you saw in the distance have turned stormy. That's when it's time to reach deep within and grasp some tenacity. No one ever said that the climb would be easy or that the rewards would come when you've earned them, or even that the prize would ever be yours. Some days it's painful just to put one foot in front of the other, but eventually the light will brighten, a window gets cracked open, the water oasis appears just when you most need a drink. And you reach, again, for that dream. That battered, trampled, stubborn dream. You hold it close, you believe, and you begin again."

I wrote the description above for the final bit of Royston turquoise (in the photo) I had in my gem stash. I'd set it recently but no evocative descriptions were coming to mind...I guess it needed a different perspective.  ~wry smile~ 

All that mix of browns and patterns evoking the dry, dusty desert, and then these brilliantly blue spots showing through...like the oasis appearing just when you really, really need it...sometimes life is handing you a rough road. And sometimes you get stuck. But eventually you get up.You carry on. And you get back to a place of light again.

So maybe that description was as much for me as for anyone browsing my web site...we all struggle, and we all rise. Anyway, I felt better after writing it. So I'm picking up. Carrying on. And minding the broken glass as I move forward.  :)