I said I wouldn't...

...but I will, post pictures of my ceramics experiments - at least of some of the better pieces. These were made in pottery class using low-fire clay.

Bottom of a slab-built bowl, hand-painted in majolica style with lead-free glazes. The white glaze could have been a little thicker. More coats next time!

The top of this same bowl was imprinted with a floral design by pressing eyelet fabric into the clay after the slab was made and shaped. (Evidently I have to use textiles in everything!) White glaze was then washed into the design and the piece was coated with a clear glaze.

First attempt at beads. These have one coat of "pottery patina" glaze. The grooves were made by pressing with wooden skewers after the beads were rolled into shape by hand. I am fond of the melon shape.

Same pottery patina glaze but the word "imagination" has been imprinted on the bead using stamps made for metals. I think the bead is too small for words, and the imprinting would better on a pendant.

The round pendant was a test to see how using buttons and jewelry components would work for making designs. This piece was just a "play-around" item, not a finished one.

Oh, by the way, this background is my new favorite for close-up photos. It's just a piece of scrapbook paper, but I like the subtle pattern in soft browns and golds.

I have only one more pottery class, so I must have all my items glazed and ready for final firing by the end of next Wednesday evening. I'll post pictures of the best pieces after that, which should include more beads and two more slab-built bowls, provided that they survive the kiln (crossing fingers!).

Modish Monthly Goal Meetup - July

I knew it was coming, that July deadline for the Modish Biz Tips Monthly Goal Meetup, but I was trying to hide in a corner to avoid it. Truth is, June turned out to be very unproductive and more contemplative business-wise than I had anticipated. I have no excuses for why I went into a stall and nosedive. It just happened.

To recap: As part of this Modish community effort to stay motivated in business ventures, I agreed to publicly post a list of goals each month, then follow up with a note on how well I met those goals. I started in April with this list, posted on my blog. May seemed to be more successful as I actually crossed off things that were on my May goals list. Unfortunately, June floated away high into the atmosphere like a lost helium balloon. One minute you're flying higher and higher into the clouds. Then POP! - you're stuck in a tree somewhere along the side of the road, deflated, with nothing but a string holding you on.

Oh well...there's always next month.


What I had hoped to accomplish in June:

1. Continue to think about and just be open to inspiration for my latest shop name idea.

I did think about this and will continue to do so. There is some gelling of purpose happening, but not enough to do a reveal just yet.

2. Work on new banner for my Etsy shop. Coordinate with packing materials for a complete "branded" look.

Uh, nothing done here. Nothing to see, so move along...

3. Reflect on the nature of my business and how much time and effort I want to, realistically, put into it. Do I have the energy and motivation to market it more seriously? What is my relationship with money with respect to creative activities, and how do I need to readjust my thinking to allow my business to grow naturally? Where does my heart really dwell? Where is my business heading?

I have probably spent most of the month dwelling on these questions, so I am crossing off #3 even though I have not reached any important conclusions. Well, maybe that is not entirely true. I did come to the realization that I feel the need to make some sort of unique jewelry component from scratch. I have a few ideas to try but I feel a little willy-nilly about this at the moment, running from concept to concept without settling on anything concrete.

I also have a gnawing sense of needing to give back, to do something that benefits others in need. Perhaps start a local crafting-for-a-cause group, or find an activity that allows me to make a difference with what I create. Maybe this quest needs to be put on top of the list for next month.

4. Continue my quest for the perfect background against which to photograph my jewelry.

Ok, I guess I can cross this off for now since I did pick up some new scrapbooking paper that has photographic promise. I don't think I will ever be completely satisfied with the photos, but I am taking a breather from this for now.

5a. Make more jewelry and get it listed.

Embarrassingly, I did not make anything except some jewelry for a friend's birthday. I'll have to hang my head and slink off in shame on this one; good intentions but no creative umph. My main stumbling block, besides creative inertia, is needing and not finding long blocks of time to sit and play with materials and designs. I seem to need more than an hour here and there to let the creative juices percolate.

5b. I want to focus on using what materials I already have rather than buying anything new. I also want to return to one of my original goals of recycling and repurposing old pieces of jewelry, making them into new creations.

I did give this some thought, and I learned about a new technique that I might use to assemble pieces of recycled vintage glass from a large collection I have into pendants and rings. Still need to think and experiment, however.

6. Start working on my own, stand-alone website.

Nada, zip, zilch, zero. Onto July's list it goes.


So there it is, the good, the bad, and the ugly truth for June. Now on to July... Considering that July and August are going to be interrupted a lot by vacations, summer activities with family and friends, and gardening tasks, I don't have high expectations for business advancement during the next two months. Still, I'll put a few things on the agenda for July.

July Goals:

1. Continue to think about and just be open to inspiration for my latest shop name idea. See if any further inspiration occurs or consider dropping this for now.

2. Start to make jewelry items for my September craft show, stART on the Street, which is a well-attended street fair in Worcester, MA. This may be the only show I do this year, so I'll need to make a big effort to have enough stock for this event. I know the next two months will fly by, so I shouldn't waste any time waiting to make inventory.

3. Test a few of my ideas for making unique jewelry components. Find a use for the recycled, vintage glass I have.

4. Contact a local bead shop about forming a crafters-for-charity group, or look for some other way to use my crafting to make a positive impact.

5. Think about a design for my own website. I know I won't get the site created this month, but I might have some time to play around with background colors and graphics to begin the design process.

I think these are doable. We'll see how it goes. Happy creating and best wishes for a productive July to all the Modish Meetup followers!

Stuck in the mud

I've always loved pottery and I have a small collection of artisan-made pieces that I have had the privilege to buy over the years. Every time our family would go on vacation, often to Maine, I would try to make at least one stop at a craft co-op store or pottery shop to browse through the hand-thrown, brightly-colored mugs, bowls and dishes created by local potters. I've also bought several gems online at Etsy from such ceramic shops as Fehu Stoneware. There is something pleasantly tactile and curiously comforting about owning and using clay-based items that were lovingly formed by an actual person and not a machine; the hands of the artist leave a unique imprint on each piece, imparting a little bit of him or her onto the clay. As I hold a handmade ceramic bowl in my hands, I can almost feel what the potter felt as the wet clay or "mud" slipped through her fingers. It's no wonder this magical process has fascinated me for years.

For some time, I have yearned to take a pottery class to feel this clay-molding process for myself. Perhaps I had fond memories of playing with Play Doh when I was a child, and I thought making pots on a wheel would be just as much fun. Perhaps I was emboldened by my recent enjoyable experiences learning weaving and spinning, and I thought, "Why not give pottery a try too? How hard can it be if I take a class?" When I saw an ad with a 20% off coupon for pottery classes given at a local studio that was only five minutes from my house, I jumped at the chance to make my pottery-making dream come true.

Toting my little plastic bucket filled with newly-purchased clay-sculpting supplies, I went to my first class filled with positive expectations. The teacher showed us the ins and outs of the studio, and gave us a demonstration of how to wedge the clay (pounding and kneading it), which softens and conditions it prior to starting a project. This was much harder than I anticipated as the clay was very dense and heavy, and much arm strength was required to make it malleable. But I managed to get a medium-sized ball of clay ready for the potter's wheel, which was the next step on my clay odyssey. Over to the wheels we went. We were told to slap our lump of clay as close to the center of the wheel as possible in order to make "centering" easier. After a few attempts and some pushing, I managed to get the clay secured and ready to go for a spin.

Next, the centering...a process, which I soon discovered, must involve some mysterious incantations or magical hand movements that still elude me after four classes. Three different wheels and five lumps of clay later, I still couldn't get the clay to behave. I tried pressing with all might, but it only made me feel like my arms were made of muscle-less rubber. Then I tried concentrating on the "zen" of pottery-making - to no avail; all I could muster was one tiny bowl after another while my happy classmates were delighting in the pottery-throwing experience, making lovely, tall pots and vases. Some were even adding handles to make mugs, or advancing to slab-built projects! On the outside I laughed at myself and my puny little bowls that looked childlike in comparison to the other pieces being made. Yet on the inside, I was heartily disappointed in myself. Why was this so hard for me? What was I doing wrong?

After the first class, and some encouraging words from friends, I vowed to go back to the wheel and try again. I would not admit defeat just yet. I studied YouTube videos on how to center and throw clay; I read about making slab bowls. I was ready for round two. I wish I could say that my second class was better than my first, but it turned out to be a rerun of the same slapstick comedy that played during class one. I had only finished trimming my little bowls and threw one more before it was time to leave. The other students were busy making large hand-built bowls imprinted with leaf and other decorative designs. Slab-building was on agenda for the third class...definitely.

Ding. Round three. A different approach. I would stay away from the wheel in this class and concentrate on textured bowls and a vase made using flat slabs of clay that were pressed down using a slab roller. This neat, hand-cranked device was like a table-top steam roller for clay. It was quite fun to use and it did what it was told to do, unlike that pesky wheel. I managed to make a small bowl with a delicate floral design inside, which I created by pressing a piece of eyelet fabric onto the clay. I also made a slab-built square-topped vase that had a border of lace imprinted on the bottom edge. Hey, this slab-building was ok! Finally something I can do with clay. I was feeling somewhat more confident, perhaps a little too much so. Inspired by the lovely, tall pitchers other students were making on the wheel, and drunk with the power of hand-building, I decided to give the wheel another try. This time I used a bigger piece of clay and all the power my arms would give me. I felt like Scotty on Star Trek with the engines rattling at full speed and about to blow. She's givin' it all she's got Captain! I was determined to make something TALL this time.

Well, if you are wondering if I made a pitcher, I did not. Did I make a tall vase? Um, no. However I did achieve a little more height in what turned out to be yet another bowl; this one sported a fluted top rather than a plain rim. It was a nice bowl, but it wasn't a vase or a pitcher or a tall success. I finished round three with the clay and wheel 3 for 3. I was feeling thoroughly defeated.

Round four came along with my last shot at making something for glazing, which we would begin to learn in the fifth class. Sadly, I learned that my best bowl had cracked during initial firing, so the bottom was sheared off. This was another hard blow. So I decided to stay "down for the count on the mat," away from the wheel, and to focus on building another slab bowl. However, I re-learned that if you come to class without a solid design idea in mind, you will spend a lot of time re-doing projects, and feeling like the clay is fighting you every step of the way. Clearly, I did not have a good design concept in mind because I spent most of my precious class time starting a platter or bowl, getting stumped as to the shape or decoration, then rolling the clay back into a ball in frustration. Finally, I resigned myself to using tree-shaped cookie cutters to add 3-dimensional interest to a bowl, which became lumpy once it was inverted onto a plaster mold for shaping. SIGH Time to go home...hooray!

The fifth class arrived with its lessons on glazing. No more clay work or wheel throwing for the remaining classes. I heaved a sigh of relief. The only clay work I did was prior to class; I took my clay home and made about a dozen round beads, which I brought back to the studio for bisque firing. Bead-making was fun and more like working with Play Doh. Rolling little balls of clay between my palms was easy and satisfying. I enjoyed making melon-shaped beads by pressing lines into the clay with wooden skewers. I even found another use for my letter stamps, normally used on metal, as I imprinted words on the beads. On to glazing them...

At first, glazing seemed like painting, which was something I had liked in the past. But, as I would soon realize, glaze was not paint. Glaze was persnickety and liked to separate. It had a habit of running and pooling in odd places. I discovered I couldn't glaze the impressed design areas with a second color the way I had planned. Pieces with indentations would have to be washed with glaze to get color in the design, then the glaze wiped off leaving the majority of the pot in its natural reddish clay color - not what I had in mind. Also, I learned, to my dismay, that dried layers of glaze were easily disturbed by subsequent wet layers, creating the possibility of a messy mixture of colors. Finally, to add to my paranoia about clay work, somehow only I seemed to be having a problem with hairs from paint brushes coming loose and finding their way into the pools of wet glaze, causing me to have to fish for the hairs with my fingers which marred the glaze I had just applied. Even the teacher looked puzzled when the brand new brush she just gave me started to shed mysteriously. The curse of the pottery studio had struck again!

So here I am, class six of eight coming up soon, and I find myself wishing the class was over already. I have taken a lot of classes over the years, and I enjoyed most of them. There were a few that were less than exciting, but very few that left me feeling completely perplexed and inept. I should make it clear than this is not because of the teacher and her methods. My complete lack of ceramic skill comes from something in me that had greatly puzzled me. I am certainly not adept at everything; I can't play a guitar, I don't have a great singing voice, my painting skills are only so-so, and crochet is a struggle. So why do I feel so stuck in the mud with this particular craft?

After much pondering and soul-searching, I have come to the realization that passion - or lack thereof - for a creative process is at the core of my success and failure rates. But it's not so much my passion level as the relationship between my passion and my skills, and my expectations for both that cause a cognitive dissonance. For example, I have always loved textiles and weaving. My interest level and past experience with fabric led me to have high skill expectations for weaving. When I started to learn to weave, I found I had decent skills, though I still had frustrations. The weaving path is a long one with many things to learn. It is a fact that it will take a lifetime to achieve proficiency in this craft. Had it not been for my inner passion for textiles and some moderate initial success, that fact would likely have easily stopped me in my tracks, causing me to drop classes after one session. Yet I eagerly look forward to fall classes and to eventually improving my skills. Even though I know I will have bad experiences along the way, my love of fiber will keep me moving forward.

With ceramics, my beginning interest level was high, and my skill level expectations were high as well, but I soon discovered that my passion level was fairly low for this craft. As I began to proceed through the classes, and I realized that my abilities did not match my expectations, I waited for passion to kick in and cause me to persevere to improve my skills. That never happened. In fact, without passion the opposite took place: I wanted to quit. Yet, I still liked pottery-making - or the idea of it, and I wanted to succeed, but evidently not enough that I was able to muster sufficient energy to steam up the learning curve when it was steep.

I should add, that I am not above admitting there was also a certain amount of ego deflation and embarrassment in play here too. I didn't like doing so poorly at something that seemed so easy for everyone else! My fragile mid-life ego sustained a critical blow from this experience, but only because my expectations of being able to "do it all" were unrealistically high.

So what have I learned from all this? I learned that there are several scenarios possible in any learning situation, and that some cause more internal struggle than others.

Scenario 1. There are things I like but I am not good at doing, yet I am willing to work to improve my skills because I have some passion for that particular creative process. My very early sewing experiences fall in this category, and eventually I moved up my skills to match my interest level. It was the internal passion for textiles that provided my continued motivation to learn.

Scenario 2. There are things I am good at doing but I don't like (office work and accounting come to mind!). I'll do these only if I have to do them. These require a lot of external pressure to complete.

Scenario 3. There are things that I like and I am good at doing, which require very little passion to sustain my effort. (These are hard to find!) The existence of this scenario is what can set up disappointment and overly high expectations for other scenarios. I'd put learning to use a spinning wheel in this category since spinning seemed to come fairly naturally to me. That's not to say that I can't improve my skills, for I certainly have a lot to learn about this craft.

Scenario 4. There are things I don't like and I am not good at doing; needless to say, I don't even try these things a second time, or I don't even contemplate attempting them.

Scenario 5. There are lots of things which cause a neutral response. They evoke a so-so interest level and my skills are so-so. I may come back to them later, but there's an equal chance that I won't. However, because my initial interest level was only moderate, I am not very disappointed if I don't succeed. (This is the "I can take it or leave it" response.)

Scenario 6. Then there are things I like, but I am not good at doing. I want to make the experience a success because I still have interest in the process or product, yet I don't have the passion to sustain my learning curve. This is the most frustrating scenario and what I found while trying to learn ceramics. Basically, it bugs me to continue to like a craft but not have the necessary innate skills OR internal drive to improve my skills.


The Scenario 6 experience of getting "stuck in the mud," though very frustrating, does the most to shake us up and honestly realign our goals with our inner motivation levels. It brings us back to center and forces us to re-examine our expectations for what we can and cannot do based on where we most want to spend our precious energies. It is definitely a wake-up call to tell us that we cannot do it all, and we cannot be good at it all. To expect to be able to do it all with equal skill and effort is to put undue pressure on ourselves. We all have our passions and best skills, our Scenarios 1 and 3, and it's ok that not all of what we like or attempt falls into these categories. For me, the spinning wheel is fine, but the pottery wheel is not, and that's normal and not a failure.

So I am returning the mud to the hands of those of you who love and are inspired by it. I can't wait to see what you do with the clay. I'll be waiting with money in my handwoven, hand-sewn purse to buy the fruits of your passions. I think I will be weaving my life in another direction for now.

Modish Monthly Goal Meetup - May

Last month I decided to participate in Modish Biz Tips Monthly Goal Meetup. As part of this community effort to stay motivated in business ventures, I agreed to publicly post a list of goals each month, then follow up with a note on how well I met those goals. I started in April with this list, posted on my blog. It's now May and time to review how I did.

My April agenda:

1. Review all remaining items in The Filigree Garden's Etsy shop and decide which ones no longer fit in with my current creative vision (however murky that is at the moment). Renew those items that still feel like they belong, move some items to 1000 Markets, and mark some for either storage or to be taken apart and redesigned.

Yay! I actually did this early in the month. I was forced to make quick decisions because all of my Etsy items were expiring mid-April.

2. Decide what to do with my Rescued Beauty Etsy shop, which is temporarily on hiatus.

Well, the shop is still on hiatus. I decided it was not worth my time to sell supplies or destash at this time. I might revive it later, who knows? For now, it remains closed.

3. Complete consignment order which is due mid-April (eek!). This involves choosing which items to offer, making a few new designs, and packing it all up for May 1 delivery.

I received a reprieve on this one since the consignment event was moved to June. So this goal will resurface in May. I did narrow down which pieces I want to send and I decided on a couple of new pieces to make.

4. Complete the jewelry that is in process on my work table.

Um, well, I did complete the few pieces I started to make, but while I was playing with beads, new designs appeared and are now half-made on the table. So I am striking this one for April in honor of the work I did complete.

5. Design two coordinating pieces of jewelry for wholesale customer.

Since this wholesale arrangement seemed to slow down considerably, I decided to wait until asked to provide new designs. I haven't heard anything more, so on to more pressing things.

6. Photograph and list new items that have been completed. Try to improve lighting in light box for a slightly softer, more romantic look.

I decided to try taking photographs with natural light and on wood to give a more soft and inviting look. Here's an example of a necklace presented in this format. The reaction on Twitter and amongst friends was mixed. Some liked the wood and some thought the grain distracted the eye from the jewelry design. What do you think? I think I might go back to the light box since natural light is so unreliable, and I am going to retry using fabric and other back drops that would be soft yet not too visually overpowering. Stay tuned...

So here we are, May 4, and it's time to think about goals for this month. I admit that I have been thoroughly distracted from jewelry-making by weaving and gardening, as you can see from my last blog post. In fact, I find myself thinking about yarn and textiles much more than about beads and wire. So, one of the items on my May agenda must reflect this change in mindset and what it means for my business path.

Goals for May:

1. Complete consignment order which is due to ship at the end of May. (Plain and simple!)

2. Decide which non-consignment projects, now on my work table, that I want to complete. Put away materials not in use and clear the decks so I can feel mentally and physically uncluttered.

3. Blog once a week at least, more if possible.

4. Last month I had a flash of inspiration in the form of another shop/brand name idea. Trouble is, I have no idea what the brand should represent or what the shop should have in it. I just really liked the name and by chance, the domain, Etsy shop name, and blog ID were all available. So I snapped it up in all those places in a "go-with-the-flow" moment. Thus, goal number four is to think about (or maybe to be open to ideas for) this new name and what it will come to be. (And no, I am not telling the name online just yet!)

5. Review materials for packaging jewelry to make them more memorable and attractive.

6. Consider remaking banner on Etsy shop page. (I think it needs a fresh look.) Coordinate with packing materials for a complete "branded" look.

7. This last goal is more of an ongoing thread for pondering, and I expect it will be on my list for many months. Reflect on the nature of my business in light of my recently renewed, long-standing obsession with textiles. (Did I mention I am a lifelong fabric-aholic? I sewed well before I started making jewelry.) Can fabric and beads peacefully co-exist? Do I have the energy and interest to do both? Where does my heart really dwell? Where is my business heading?

These last questions may be too metaphysical for business goals, but they certainly affect the amount of effort I put into my business activities. I've always struggled with staying enthusiastic about something once it becomes a profit-making enterprise. Somehow an activity loses its luster once money comes into the picture. This mindset becomes even more prominent when a craft is involved because, for me, art and creativity live on a different plane than jobs and work. I always prefer just making things to satisfy an inner need to do so over focusing on selling them. Plus, let's face it, I am a bit shy (and somewhat lazy) when it comes to marketing and promotion. The idea of spending a lot of time on social networking and hawking my wares makes me want to run and hide! So...maybe number 8 should read, make peace with the difference between crafts for money and crafts for fun, or learn to blend the lines that mark this difference in my mind.

Good luck to all my fellow Meetup followers! I hope May is kind to your goals and that you get a lot accomplished this month.

Modish Monthly Goal Meetup

I have really been enjoying the posts by Jena at Modish Biz Tips. Her thoughtful insights on creativity and business have been very much on target for me lately, and she has really made me reflect on my goals for my business ventures. Now she is challenging her readers to state goals for April, posted for all to see, to keep each of them accountable for following through on their to-do lists. On the first Friday of each month, participants in this "Monthly Goal Meetup" will check in and see how they did meeting their goals. I am hoping group motivation and support will help get me moving on business tasks that have been lurking on the back burner.

Gulp, I'm feeling a little nervous since it is already the second week of April and this week is going to be very busy with non-business activities. Here's hoping the universe will look kindly upon my public declaration of goals!

My short agenda for April:

1. Review all remaining items in The Filigree Garden's Etsy shop and decide which ones no longer fit in with my current creative vision (however murky that is at the moment). Renew those items that still feel like they belong, move some items to 1000 Markets, and mark some for either storage or to be taken apart and redesigned.

2. Decide what to do with my Rescued Beauty Etsy shop, which is temporarily on hiatus.

3. Complete consignment order which is due mid-April (eek!). This involves choosing which items to offer, making a few new designs, and packing it all up for May 1 delivery.

4. Complete the jewelry that is in process on my work table.

5. Design two coordinating pieces of jewelry for wholesale customer.

6. Photograph and list new items that have been completed. Try to improve lighting in light box for a slightly softer, more romantic look.

Winding Down

For the past two months I have been cranking up my internal gears in preparation for the holiday season and three craft shows. I worked night and day like a little elf, the light over my work table often glowing late into the night (or into the wee hours of the morning). Although these times of extreme crafting were tiring, I experienced a wonderful explosion of creativity during those frenetic weeks. Pages of designs were sketched and added to my "inspiration board," and dozens of projects that had been lingering in the back of my mind were brought to life. Of course, I can't keep up that pace for long, and eventually I need to take a short hiatus where I make nothing. It is at that point which I find myself now: shows done, worktable in need of clearing, mind in need of rest. My internal clock needs to wind down. Winter is a good time for replenishing that energy deficit.

So what DID I do during all those late night crafting extravaganzas? Mostly I prepared new inventory for craft shows. The events were not highly attended and my experiences ranged from "awful" to "not too bad." I certainly had the chance to practice setting up and taking down my booth, which I fine-tuned to include new ways to display necklaces and earrings.

Picture frames lined with fabric
make nice back-drops for earrings

Inexpensive lampshades
turn into necklace displays

The booth set-up forms an
L-shape and tries to create
a boutique atmosphere.

The lighted topiaries and silk
flower arrangements I made
were a big hit. People wanted
to know if they were for sale.
Perhaps I should go into
floral design instead??

I made many bracelets, including new styles with wire and glass flowers (right). This is a style I think I may offer again with various handmade, wire focal clasps. I also did some knotting on silk cord (left) which I find very relaxing.

Flowers from Zuda Gay, fused glass pendants from Chauncey Design, handmade lampwork beads and ceramic pendants from other Etsy artisans made their way into my designs.

I also had a chance to use some recycled, vintage bottle glass in a necklace using wrapped Vintaj natural brass filigree to create a pendant, and combining it with frosted Czech glass beads in a matching cobalt shade.

In between the crazy days and nights of crafting, I also decided to open shops on two new, online marketing venues for handmade items. I now have the beginnings of collections available for purchase at 1000 Markets, http://www.1000markets.com/users/thefiligreegarden, and Artfire. I don't yet have a full inventory at these locations, but I plan to further explore these avenues in 2009.

Finally, it seems that everyone is getting into Twitter these days, and I have also taken the plunge into this new micro-blogging outlet. When a friend asked me what Twitter is used for, I was stumped about how to explain it. "Is it chatting?" Well, it can be... "Is is blogging?" Well, sort of... Twitter is really a running monologue (and sometimes dialogue) in real time that is from you to the Twitter community. It encompasses marketing, idea exchanges, information alerts, getting and giving answers to questions, social networking, and communication between people. The one thing it definitely becomes is addicting! If you want to give it a try, you can follow me on Twitter, http://twitter.com/filigreegarden, and we'll have a 140 character dialogue. Yes, each post can only be 140 characters long, so you soon become proficient in trimming what you say to the barest essentials - quite the challenge sometimes!

Now the snow is falling and we're preparing to be housebound for the weekend. After I file away a mountain of paperwork, put the last few pairs of completed earrings in my shops, and do a little more blog maintenance, I think I will clear everything off my work table and go into hibernation for a bit, or at least until January when visions of business taxes and inventory records start dancing in my husband's head. Ugh! Off to hang up the mental "Do Not Disturb" sign until then!

Crafting from the Roots Up

Coming into midlife has been challenging for me. I struggle with relinquishing who I was as a young adult, and I balk at moving into a future that is frighteningly wide open. I am emerging from my middle age metamorphic cocoon still not knowing what type of butterfly I am. What do I want to do with my life – the second half? The excitement of being able to reinvent myself is counterbalanced by the lonely glare of a blank slate framed by adult fear and indecision. I could reinvent myself…but as what? There are so many vocational options, unlimited activities to try, dozens of interesting crafts calling my name, and many facets of my personality to explore. I feel like a teenager again. Yet unlike a girl of 18, I am a “mature” woman with a lot less time to waste. My second half has an expiration date that was absent in my first half. I’d like to get to the heart of the matter soon and spend those precious second-half days doing things that make me truly happy; I want to grow back into the soul of the child I was meant to be.

There is something very overwhelming about having too many options. Which one of those numerous potential new activities and creative pursuits is “the one”? In order to discover my lost self, I had to take a trip back in time to my crafting roots. Was there an art or craft that always captured my heart? I began to remember the things I asked for as a child: crayons, books, a typewriter, paper, pencils, thread, fabric, a camera, more paper, more crayons, yet more books...some items were very prominent in my recollections. These key objects represented activities that brought me joy at an early age, and are interests to which I am drawn once again.

Looking back, I always liked to play with color and texture. I can remember the pleasure of opening a fresh box of Crayola crayons with their rainbow of colors to delight the eye. One Christmas I received an enormous box of crayons, well over a hundred, packed neatly in a large, flat box along with a crayon sharpener and a few other art supplies. I was in heaven! Then there was the holiday which brought a “learn to draw” set which came with a pressed board drawing surface, a book on how to draw horses (my passion at the time), a sketch book, a box of charcoals, and some professional pencils. I felt like an artist. When I was older, my mother bought me a “real” set of Prismacolor colored pencils and a small palette of Grumbacher watercolors. We even went to an honest-to-goodness art store to purchase them. I spent hours drawing, mostly horses and other animals, but I also designed clothes and imagined they would be in pattern books or fashion magazines some day. Many of those colored pencils were worn down to little stubs in no time, but I never had the heart to throw them away.

Does anyone remember collecting S&H Green Stamps years ago? My mother would get these stamps when she made purchases at the grocery store; when you saved enough stamps and pasted them in a little paperback book, you could get your choice of items from a catalog. After weeks of squirreling away and attaching those little green tickets (I can still taste the stamp glue!), I was able to make my dream purchase: my first camera. I was still in elementary school at the time so this was very exciting. My choice was a Spartus Vanguard, made by Herold Products. It took color or black-and-white photographs with 127 film and it had a bulbous flash set in a silver-lined cup that looked like a small radar dish. It seems so antiquated now, but at the time it was my window on the world; it was a way to capture the beauty of nature or to forever frame a moment in time. I wanted my photos to be like the ones in National Geographic magazine, which came every month like clockwork in my parents’ mail. The magazine’s pictures seemed perfectly composed, romantic and mysterious. Every one told a wordless story about people and places that existed in a world different from my own. Of course, of the hundreds of pictures I took with that boxy camera, only a few turned out even remotely like the magazine shots, but I kept trying.

And let’s not forget the world of crafting. During my younger days I tried a lot of different things from sewing to knitting to embroidery. In middle school I learned to follow a pattern to make clothes, and I sewed some simple decorating items for my room. Like a lot of other little girls I made clothes and jewelry for my Barbie dolls, and I created jewelry for myself from beads and buttons. (Have you ever seen beads made from drops of Elmer’s glue?!) One of my favorite collections that I still have today is a mixture of plastic beads that I keep in an old, blue and white, metal cookie tin. One day my family stopped at a country store not far from a relative’s house. In one room of the store was a large, wooden whiskey barrel filled with beads. For a small amount one could purchase a bag of beads in a random assortment of sizes and hues. I remember dipping my hands deep into that cornucopia of color and wiggling my fingers through the round bits of plastic as if I had discovered a pirate’s chest filled with gold coins.

But the most enduring of my childhood passions grew from my love of books, which were my constant childhood companions. Like photographs, books could transport me into foreign places and let me tag along on adventures that could only take place in my imagination. Words were enticing and playful, beautiful and magical. They had power and yet they could be shaped into landscapes, actions and images. Words could communicate on paper what a shy kid like me couldn't verbalize. I loved those words and I wanted to write them too. So sometime when I was about 8, I asked my parents for a way to write faster than I could by hand. My wish was granted in the form of a brown, plastic typewriter that had cream-toned keys. I banged on that typewriter for hours; my parents got their money’s worth from that purchase! Eventually I graduated to a more grown-up, metal, Smith-Corona and, sadly, the poor little plastic typewriter went the way of all well-used toys. However, it will always have a fond place in my heart.

Vintage Hermes 3000 typewriter I purchased at a yard sale brings back memories of my childhood writing friend.

So, as we grow older, do we grow back into the creative people we used to be; the people we were born to be? If we are lucky, I think the answer is yes. Though many of my interests popped up here and there during my 20’s and 30’s, I am now beginning to return to my roots with more fervor in my midlife rediscovery of drawing, needlework, sewing, photography, beading, and, through the wonders of technology, writing. Blogging is undoubtedly an addictive outlet for word-lovers! This emerging butterfly might have finally found her wings.

I asked friends in my Etsy BBEST team (Boomer and Beyond Etsy Street Team) to look back at what arts and crafts they were drawn to as children. Did they carry these interests into adulthood or do they find themselves returning to these parts of their earlier selves? Their insightful and interesting answers will be posted tomorrow!

Creative Composting

Writing has always been one of my favorite pastimes, but my inspiration for it comes in waves, and I don't produce a steady stream of written works all year long. I tend to focus my energies on different projects in different seasons. I haven’t been attending to my writing during the past few months because I have been researching, planning, and nurturing my incipient garden, which is promising to be bigger than it was last year at this time. For the past two summers I have been experimenting with one method of raised bed gardening that reminds me of the ebb and flow of my writing endeavors: lasagna or sheet-mulch planting. For those not familiar with this method, here is a summary. Place a thick layer of newspapers and cardboard over the grass. Soak thoroughly with water. One can construct foot-high, wooden walls for the new garden bed, but it isn’t entirely necessary. Add straw and other organic waste matter – wood chips, kitchen vegetable scraps, grass clippings, leaves, yard trimmings, or any kind of non-toxic plant matter. Then pile on a layer of compost, and mulch generously. One option is to cover this layer cake with a sheet of black plastic to speed up the decomposition process, but it isn’t absolutely necessary. And voila, in a couple of months, depending on the temperature, you will start to have a nice, rich earthy mass of nutrients to feed your plants. No double-digging or sweating for hours with a hoe and shovel trying to encourage our rocky New England soil to part with its rubble. This method builds up rather than excavates down. With any luck, you will also be able to dig down into the rotting pile of biological refuse to find a squirming layer of earthworms busy doing their job churning life into the future soil you have started.

It’s really quite a magical natural process, and it all happens without much effort on the gardener’s part beyond the initial set-up. One can even toss in non-animal food scraps and grass clippings over the course of the year and enrich the pile, heaping on new fodder for future gardening. Keep adding organic matter to the mess as time goes on and the soil just gets better and better. And it all happens underneath the surface, under the cover of mulch or plastic, and completely out of view. The magic happens so subtly that peeking under the outer layer during the incubating period would not be advised. Allow the mystery to stay behind Mother Nature’s magic curtain. It is best just to have faith and believe that, indeed, a voluptuous brown earth, steaming and teeming with vital nutrients, will be waiting to nourish your plants and, in the end, you.

Our "Arbor Garden" with its archway made from a recycled cedar swing set.
Hinged, arched doors were created out of reclaimed, old barn boards.

How does decaying vegetal matter remind me of writing you ask? Well I don’t want to reveal too much of what goes on under my mulch, but trust me, covering up the brain and letting the worms work into that gray matter is an absolutely necessary part of my creative process. I suppose that doesn’t paint a very pretty picture, but I warned you not to peek under the outer layer until it’s time to plant! I’ve been very guilty of lifting up that thought-incubating plastic way too many times before the soil was ripe; I was often repulsed and discouraged against creating anything by the nasty sight of ideas not yet fully ready for growing into fully-leafed projects. Remember: Never peek! Trust that nature is stewing and churning beneath the surface of your skull.

When the time is right, and the temperature has the reached proper level, the stink of rotting thoughts subsides and the pleasantly sweet aroma of creative compost will signal that your mind-garden is ready for cultivation. Lift up the top mulch, throw in some seeds, and watch what grows. A veritable cornucopia of essays and poems, art work, and literary fruits will blossom if you just let the land between your ears lay fallow for a little while. Composing in the compost increases your creative yield. Trust me, decay and dirt are good things despite what your mother may have taught you. Now pardon me while I put back my mulch. My artistic compost pile needs to stew a little longer.

Feeling Knotty

Since I took a short workshop on making knotted jewelry with silk yarn a few months ago, I have had the urge to create more knotted pieces. There is something very satisfying about the feel of working with thread and cord; I imagine it must be the same meditative groove that knitters and crochet enthusiasts slip into when they are deeply occupied with their craft. Manipulating yarns and threads can be very soothing. The rhythmic and repetitive motion coupled with the textural sensation of fiber against the fingers elicits some ancient human memory of a time when making things by hand was both a daily part of survival and an artistic expression.

There's nothing really naughty about feeling "knotty", though it did cause me to break my "no new supplies" fast with the purchase of more silk cord. In fact, knotted jewelry requires far fewer tools than any other type of bead-craft making it a highly portable crafting pastime. The floral necklace pictured above was made using Griffin silk cord, Czech glass beads, gold glass pearls, gold-filled clamshell tips and jump rings, a gold-filled clasp, chain-nose pliers, and a knotting tweezer. Sounds fairly simple? Well, a moderate amount of patience and advance planning is also required because the design needs to be carefully arranged before the first knot is tied; constant measurements must be taken as the work progresses, especially in the "tin cup" style (seen below) which includes numerous spaces between knots where the cord is left uncovered. Once the knots start happening there is no turning back. If you have ever tried to remove a knot from a piece of fine yarn or thread, you will know that your frustration often ends with a pair of scissors and a few choice words. A misplaced knot in a piece of knotted jewelry most likely will mean starting the design from scratch.












The design name "tin cup" comes from a movie of the same name in which the character played by actress René Russo wore a necklace made of pearls knotted at intervals along a lightweight silk cord. This style gained popularity from film exposure and now it has become a classic jewelry design. A "tin cup" necklace or bracelet can be formed along silk cord, nylon monofilament with crimps, nylon cord, waxed linen thread, or multiple strands of silk yarn, as in this lariat style necklace that was my first piece constructed during the workshop I attended. These Swarovski crystals in various shades of topaz and jonquil seem to float on 8 strands of very lightweight, metallic, Japanese silk yarns. Individually these silk yarns are no thicker than fine sewing thread, but together they are quite strong while creating a delicate effect. A lariat style necklace made with silk cord would be great for someone who is allergic to metal for no clasps are required. Closure is achieved by looping one end over the other, and the length can be varied depending on where the ends are crossed.

Knotting has been used for centuries to string pearls. Better quality pearl necklaces are usually strung on silk cord with knots in between each pearl; this keeps the pearls from rubbing against each other and becoming damaged during the course of normal wear. The other benefit of placing a knot between each pearl or bead is that if the strand breaks, only one bead drops out. The rest stay securely in place. Pearl knotting with one knot after each bead in a continuous sequence is easier than making something tin cup style because no measuring of open spaces is required. The necklace below was done this way using a variety of Czech glass beads in jet black and red. The lovely flower centerpiece is a handmade polymer bead made by ZudaGay, a very talented artist who creates beautiful multi-hued beads, pendants, and ACEOs (Art Cards, Editions and Originals) by blending and sculpting polymer clay. Her wonderful garden of designs can be found in her Etsy shop, http://www.zudagay.etsy.com.

True, though silk is strong, it will eventually wear and break, especially if the jewelry is worn frequently. It has been suggested that knotted pearls should be restrung every few years. Silk cord also should not be exposed to water. (No showering or swimming while wearing knotted beads!) Yet knotted jewelry is supple and has a wonderful drape, and the silk cord adds a gentle sheen to the overall appearance of each piece. The extra labor involved in hand-knotting makes this type of jewelry very special and unique.

I have many more knotty creations floating around in my mind. I have several colors of waxed linen cord that are "fit to be tied," so to speak. Knotted linen would yield a more casual look and might be interesting combined with stones and wood beads. No matter what the materials, I am sure I will be feeling "knotty" for some time to come.

Fiber, Paper, Scissors

Recently I took a little side trip away from making jewelry into the wonderful world of paper and fiber by taking an online class called Journal Making for the Fiber Artist. During the 5-week class, students learned techniques to make five different types of blank journals that have fiber covers and stitched-in paper sections known as “signatures.” Although I have only completed the first lesson in the series (my first journal is pictured to the left), I enjoyed using new techniques and working in a fresh medium. I found I had fun playing with paper, especially applying embellishments using paper punches and eyelets. There is nothing like diving into a new artistic realm to spark one’s sluggish creativity. one’s sluggish creativity.

Our instructor and creator of the journal projects is Sue Bleiweiss. Sue is a talented mixed media fiber artist, a teacher, publisher of the online mixed media zine Fibre & Stitch, and an energetic, creative individual who is always experimenting with new techniques and materials to develop unique surface treatments for her many artistic projects. Her primary focus at the moment is exploring the creation of 3D structures such as fabric boxes, sketchbooks and journals. Sue writes that she is “enjoying the challenge of adapting traditional book binding techniques to work with fabrics and fibers.” Her work is showcased in her Etsy shop, http://www.suebleiweiss.etsy.com.

I had the pleasure of meeting Sue at her home where she gave me a tour of her studio, which contained many works in progress, including fabric in process on her loom for a magazine feature, and new designs for fabric journals. When asked what sparked the development of her handcrafted journals, and how the marriage of fiber and paper took place, Sue replied, “I'm not really sure why I started making journals. I think it came from wondering if I could adapt traditional bookbinding techniques to work with fiber and fabric. My first designs started out fairly simple with plain paper insides. Now I spend just as much time (and sometimes a lot more!) creating the insides as I do on the outsides.”

Although her worktable is currently covered in supplies and notes for creating samples for her latest journal making class, she is always thinking about the next project. Sue’s talents cover a wide range of interests, including weaving, fabric painting and dyeing, handbag design, construction of fabric boxes, and papermaking and embellishment. Sue is now happily immersed in fiber art and teaching, but until six years ago she worked in the high tech world building online reporting and financial analysis systems. Sue recalls her decision to make a career path change. “I decided that I wanted a less stressful and slower paced way of life so I left it to pursue some other things. I started out weaving and spent a couple of years selling my weavings and handbags. I fell into online teaching a couple of years ago when I was approached about creating an online class teaching silk fusion. I love to teach and have been developing and offering online classes ever since.”

Sue’s enthusiasm for helping her students and seeing them enjoy exploring new mediums is obvious; she is very prompt and thorough in replying to their questions during class. “I absolutely love to teach, it's one of my favorite things to do besides the actual creating,” she explains. “I am in the process of developing a second journal making class and another mixed media techniques class. The techniques class will either be a 12-week class or two 6-week classes. I haven't decided yet. I also have on the ‘to develop’ list to create a new updated version of my Silk Fusion class.”

During our visit, I found myself inspired by Sue’s willingness to dive into new projects and to venture into unknown artistic realms, places where many of us hesitate to go without much deliberation and analysis. I wondered if her creative process had a particular format; if there was a pattern to the way she brought an idea from a passing thought to a finished product. Was there something that inspired her or got her creative juices flowing? Sue provided this insight. “My creative process is a hit or miss one. I'm typically in the studio for 6 to 8 hours a day starting at about 6 a.m. Sometimes I go in with the intention of working on an idea that I've sketched out or written down in my notebook and sometimes I go in with no plan at all. The only thing that I do consistently with regards to the creative process is to keep a notebook going at all times. Nothing fancy mind you and it doesn't have any artsy-sketched drawings done in colored pencils or watercolors. It's just page after page of scribbles and notes. Sometimes I paste in something I cut out of a magazine or catalog that caught my eye but mostly it's just notes and lists. This helps to keep me focused and organized so that when I'm ready for instance to start developing a new class or working on a new idea I can refer to my notebook and everything is in one place.”

Sue seems to have a boundless creative energy, which she applies to anything she attempts. I asked if there were any aspects of crafting that she didn’t find appealing and that she wouldn’t try again. Sue did acknowledge, “I tried spinning once and that didn't go well at all! I tried doing glasswork once but didn't really enjoy that either. I prefer the tactile nature of working with fiber.”

Sue’s other hidden talent lies in publishing, and she greatly enjoys the production of the online magazine Fibre & Stitch with her partner Terri Stegmiller. Sue explained how the “zine” was developed. “F&S was started on a whim believe it or not. I was looking for a new challenge and I thought why not try my hand at online publishing. I sent an email to my good friend and now business partner Terri Stegmiller (http://stegart.blogspot.com/) and asked her if she wanted to start up a magazine with me, and two months later we were up and running and taking subscription orders. We're just about ready to publish our 4th issue and we're looking forward to the next four.” Sue and Terri also collaborate on the website Two Creative Studios where both artists offer a number of online learning opportunities in a wide variety of mixed-media fiber arts subjects such as journal making, paper quilting, mixed-media fiber collage, surface design and much more.

Undoubtedly Sue has been very successful in many artistic avenues from weaving to journal making to publishing. She has been featured in magazines such as Belle Armoire, Somerset Studio and Handwoven. I asked her to suggest some tips for those just starting out in the world of marketing their creative work. Sue responded, “My advice to those just starting out is to make yourself as visible as you can. Market yourself online in Yahoo groups, Ning groups, and by being active in the blogging community. Submit work to print and online magazines. Getting published is a terrific way to get your work and name in front of an audience without having to spend any money up front.”

I am thankful to Sue for opening her studio to me and for offering insights into her creative process. I am looking forward to seeing what new techniques and fiber designs emerge from her workshop, guided by her talented hands and inspired by her very fruitful artistic imagination. To keep updated on Sue's latest projects, visit her blog at http://suebleiweiss.typepad.com/sueb/ .

While the muse is away...

We all associate long, dry spells with the middle of a hot summer. Well I have been in a crafting dry spell in the middle of a beautiful spring this year. I haven't made much in the last month. It seems my creative muse has left for vacation without so much as a note or a fond farewell. I think she became scared and took off when I reorganized my crafting space; all that neatness and those nicely arranged shoe boxes on brand new shelving were just too much for her. Miss Creativity needs organized confusion!

So what does one do while creativity is on holiday? Plan for a future crafting journey and gather supplies for the trip of course! While out foraging for crafting provisions for my upcoming adventure learning to weave (see my previous post on my loom acquisition), I happened upon an antique spinning wheel being given away on Craigslist. Being a sucker for an old, abandoned sewing or crafting tool, I was immediately drawn to the poor wheel with its missing spoke, broken flyer, and absent footman. After a little deliberation, I said I would rescue it, all the while hoping my husband would not object to yet another piece of "Are you going to use that?" equipment being brought into the house.

It's an interesting Saxony-style wheel in a lovely, aged cherry color with Colonial-style carved legs and spindles. Naturally, it is pretty dusty and it needs some tightening up here and there. A curious mystery peeks out from under the dust on the bench part of the wheel. Inscribed in large, dotted letters is the following:

"No. 14
R T
1836"

There are also scallop designs all around the top of the bench made in the same dotted style. Are these markings of the maker, or a former owner's personalization? I am trying to solve the mystery as well as locate someone who can tell me if the wheel can be repaired.

What will I do with this wheel you ask? I have had a couple of spinning lessons and I thoroughly enjoyed the rhythmic motions and tactile sensations of working fibers into yarn. I had been perusing Craigslist and eBay looking for a used, modern spinning wheel within my budget to purchase when this little fellow (can spinning wheels be male?) caught my eye. I am still on the hunt for a newer wheel to use for spinning practice, but I would like to repair this old one for both the challenge of trying to use it, as well as to restore and give new life to an antique tool.

So now I have a spinning wheel to repair, a loom waiting to be cleaning and warped (another learning curve to stretch my thinning brain cells), half-finished jewelry projects on my work table, and Sue Bleiweiss' online fabric journal-making class just starting. I hope my muse has had a nice, long rest while she has been away because I have lots of projects wating for her when she returns!