We all juggle. Every day. Balancing precariously priorities as life changes and swishes by us forcing us to stop, change direction, add balls, drop them.
Don't ever drop the ball of your love. It is your centre, the strength and foundation around which you juggle everything else. without nourishing love and self, why bother juggling at all?
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Of magnolias, bits, bobs and boobie beads...
The sun has been out for a few days this week. The. Sun. Sure, still it's coldish for Victoria in April, I still have mittens on in the morning while I scrape the ice off the car. Sure, my feet are still so cold in my office I have the space heater on most days. But it's the sun. And it's been away too long.
Of course, the sun being out means my eyes hurt. A lot. And the sexy wrap around over the regular glasses are back on. But it also means the blossoms are out. Millions of them. Cherry trees, apple trees, daffodils, tulips, the rhodos and of course, the magnolias. Oh the magnolias.
When I was growing up my grandmother gave me her copy of Gone with the Wind. It was tattered then but I loved it. Every page. I was enchanted. Even my high school graduation dress was a southern belle like gown. My mother took to calling me Laurabelle, her magnolia blossom of the north. She even labeled cards and packages to University Residence with that moniker. Seriously. And her Laurabelle, Magnolia blossom of the north I have remained to this day.
What is ironic is that the first spring after my parents moved to Victoria, my mom and I were driving somewhere and I exclaimed delight as I pointed out the season's first magnolia blossoms. Mom looked long and hard at them and said, "That's a magnolia?". I think I stopped the car and stared at her for a moment. "You've been calling me a magnolia blossom since I was in junior high school and you never even knew what they looked like mom? What if they had been butt ugly?" We laughed. And I still adore magnolias. Truly I do. That's what my first tattoo will be if and when the ink gun hits the skin....
I adore magnolias so much my mood is happier and like a blossom hidden all winter from somewhere deep inside the urge came to start trying to make necklaces. Okay, I knew where the urge came from. There was a fusion necklace made with old and new components on a website I stalk that I fell in love with. Never bought because I never had money at the time to buy it. It seemed extravagant. And it sold. I lost it. And vowed to make myself one similar one day.
So one day this week I started to play with gillet pieces that I took apart and some pendants from Pakistan I had in my collection. I found gorgeous blue beads I found to match the blue in the pendant. And I played. And created. And loved it. I posted the first few on fb - got incredibly supportive feedback. And made more. And more. And more. Stripping out old necklaces I never wear or that I bought and loved but find too uncomfortable to wear, finding earrings I either don't wear or that are missing pieces, ripping apart headpieces I made but were too wide. The table at my house is a wild crazy place at the moment. Colourful and strewn with bits, bobs, and boobie beads.
I decided along the way that if it wasn't something I would be willing and comfortable to wear, I wouldn't make it. So often, necklaces are made for necks that aren't my size with beads that poke into the skin. Not on my table. So the necklaces are bigger in diameter - at least 37 cm. I put a daisy bead in the first piece. Loved it. Vowed there would be one or two in each piece.
The creating started on Wednesday and in the last 4 days I have made 15 necklaces. All using pieces I had, some new beads and findings from the bead store, most fusing old tribal components with new components to make everyday wearable necklaces. Even a piece with a cowboy boot and old tribal coins. Call it a crazy idea but it is remarkably adorable. I took them on a proper photo shoot by the ocean today. A photo shoot. For necklaces. Holy smokes Scarlett!
It's crazy. I can't get enough. I've ordered more pendants and gillet and boobie beads. I'm going to start listing them on Etsy this week and have so much to learn about that process. My fingers are numb and I've run out of clasps. But the magnolias are still blooming, workshops are expensive.... and frankly - I have a couple crafty habits to support and some dreams to fund. Maybe, just maybe, I've found a lovely lovely way to do it. And along the way, maybe I'll find the pieces to make my own version of the necklace I fell in love with and that got away.
Of course, the sun being out means my eyes hurt. A lot. And the sexy wrap around over the regular glasses are back on. But it also means the blossoms are out. Millions of them. Cherry trees, apple trees, daffodils, tulips, the rhodos and of course, the magnolias. Oh the magnolias.
When I was growing up my grandmother gave me her copy of Gone with the Wind. It was tattered then but I loved it. Every page. I was enchanted. Even my high school graduation dress was a southern belle like gown. My mother took to calling me Laurabelle, her magnolia blossom of the north. She even labeled cards and packages to University Residence with that moniker. Seriously. And her Laurabelle, Magnolia blossom of the north I have remained to this day.What is ironic is that the first spring after my parents moved to Victoria, my mom and I were driving somewhere and I exclaimed delight as I pointed out the season's first magnolia blossoms. Mom looked long and hard at them and said, "That's a magnolia?". I think I stopped the car and stared at her for a moment. "You've been calling me a magnolia blossom since I was in junior high school and you never even knew what they looked like mom? What if they had been butt ugly?" We laughed. And I still adore magnolias. Truly I do. That's what my first tattoo will be if and when the ink gun hits the skin....
I adore magnolias so much my mood is happier and like a blossom hidden all winter from somewhere deep inside the urge came to start trying to make necklaces. Okay, I knew where the urge came from. There was a fusion necklace made with old and new components on a website I stalk that I fell in love with. Never bought because I never had money at the time to buy it. It seemed extravagant. And it sold. I lost it. And vowed to make myself one similar one day.
So one day this week I started to play with gillet pieces that I took apart and some pendants from Pakistan I had in my collection. I found gorgeous blue beads I found to match the blue in the pendant. And I played. And created. And loved it. I posted the first few on fb - got incredibly supportive feedback. And made more. And more. And more. Stripping out old necklaces I never wear or that I bought and loved but find too uncomfortable to wear, finding earrings I either don't wear or that are missing pieces, ripping apart headpieces I made but were too wide. The table at my house is a wild crazy place at the moment. Colourful and strewn with bits, bobs, and boobie beads. 
I decided along the way that if it wasn't something I would be willing and comfortable to wear, I wouldn't make it. So often, necklaces are made for necks that aren't my size with beads that poke into the skin. Not on my table. So the necklaces are bigger in diameter - at least 37 cm. I put a daisy bead in the first piece. Loved it. Vowed there would be one or two in each piece.The creating started on Wednesday and in the last 4 days I have made 15 necklaces. All using pieces I had, some new beads and findings from the bead store, most fusing old tribal components with new components to make everyday wearable necklaces. Even a piece with a cowboy boot and old tribal coins. Call it a crazy idea but it is remarkably adorable. I took them on a proper photo shoot by the ocean today. A photo shoot. For necklaces. Holy smokes Scarlett!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)