I'm finding myself kind of lost lately when I sit down to create. The spark is gone and I'm asking myself what the point is.
I'm slipping into envy, feeling jealous of those artists whose work is in such high demand that just the comment, "Shop Update!" sends fans running to their laptops and mobile devices.
It's ridiculous, I know.
I know my work is unique and I pour hand and heart into each piece, but it's a more simple body of work that reflects a more simple life.
I don't live my life on the knife edge of a cliff in Norway tending to my sheep and running with wolves while riding wild horses bareback in a handmade linen dress woven from vintage quilts found in the basements of orphanages turned military hospitals turned boarding schools.
You'll never find photos of me cuddling squirrels and whistling to robins that perch lovingly on my snow white shoulder while my daughter (with perfectly curled hair), spins with reindeer in a dress made from Spanish lace recovered from a bridal boutique destroyed during the Spanish civil war.
You're far more likely to find me tending to my ever-increasing pile of laundry and running after a 16 month old while trying to brew coffee and make sure the pancakes don't burn all while wearing a pair of soffe shorts purchased a decade ago with a t-shirt that says "Go Chargers!".
I do find myself cuddling animals, but mostly those of the stuffed variety and I do whistle, but only to my husband and mostly when a rogue cockroach comes crawling out from under my kitchen cabinets. My daughter does spin, but we try to discourage it as most of the time it results in injury when she goes flying into a piece of furniture.
Don't get me wrong, some of my favorite parts of my day and my life are the morning cup of coffee and perfectly cooked eggs purchased from the farmer's market; walking around the front yard while Rosa points to the most mundane things and babbles and smiles like she's found hidden treasure; rocking her to sleep in a quite room; trips to the library, even if I only get kids books; evening walks around the neighborhood with my mom and sisters pointing to kitties and doggies and the occasional bird; and finally, crawling into bed feeling a sense of accomplishment knowing that those that I love and who love me are tucked into bed and sleeping safely and soundly.
My jewelry reflects these parts of my life.
The little birdies from my neighborhood found their way into these bangles. I created a double-sided charm using two different colors of laminate and then added a bead for a bit of jingle.
This one features a punchy orange on one side and bright red lacquer on the other.
This one is the soft lavender on one side with this perfectly royal purple on the other.
Also, this gigantic bird slider on this thick and chunky leather strap.
I love it.
It's practically chirping at me right now.
Four birds in crazy-you'll-never-see-in-nature colors.
Rosa would go nutso if she saw these beauties perched on our power lines.
I also made this perfectly perfect Variscite ring, but I'm not gonna drop it in the shop because even though the bezel is PERFECT (after like an hour of polishing), the band ended up a bit wonky, so it's not up to my selling standards. (Oh...darn.)
I also made this weird spinner ring. I'm calling it the Road Trip ring.
I made a copper "road", complete with lines and bumps and a STOP sign, and then added a luggage-laden station wagon a la Lampoon's.
The best part?
It's a SPINNER ring.
Did you catch that?
The car spins, ahem...drives around the ring, ahem...road!
I love it.
The only problem?
Like, waaaay to big even for my thumb. It's like a size 11 or something crazy, I haven't even measured the size it's so crazy big.
I have no idea why I made it so big, but I did.
So, for now, it's sitting on my workbench like a piece of art. (Because it is!)
The birdies are all in the shop along with another silver ring that I finished about a week ago.
Thanks for stopping by.
It's 11:00 pm here and my pet peacock just informed me that it's time for bed. That said, I'm going to go to bed, looking forward to turning down the sheets of my farmhouse bed made from reclaimed wood salvaged from the deck of wrecked Mississippi Riverboats dredged from the bottom of the Mississippi river basin.