When it rains, it pours

I am always amazed at the ebb and flow of work. Why is it you are either so busy you want to tear your hair out or so busy you almost want to tear your hair out? So, whatever happened to “down time?” I often wish I had a few open days to reflect on something I have just completed before the next onslaught arrives, but these days it is a constant deluge of work, stuff, life.

Last weekend, I taught a fun workshop on Textures and Patinas for the 20th anniversary conference of the Enamel Guild’s Northeast chapter at the beautiful Newark Museum arts workshop metals studio. I have been creating samples, demos and handouts for weeks to expand and clearly document the information I briefly covered during the filming of my third DVD on the same topic. We all had a great time, it was an incredible conference, and I am honored to have been invited to teach. For the past few days I have been following up with extra information, paperwork and correspondence with my students and the new friends I made, in addition to the regular workload of my day job. I am inspired to make something new — but I don’t have any time at the moment.

I was just assigned a really fun story to cover in the November issue, I have several ongoing monthly writing assignments, this blog, Facebook contacts, a Twitter feed, and a June workshop to plan for. There is also my son’s end-of-term performance to attend, the garden is screaming for attention, and I have 2 things on the bench I really want to be done with so I can make some new work. And, I also have a complex, long term, very important and dear to my heart project — which is on my mind and consuming every waking moment. I can’t let go of it for even a second or it will break my concentration.

If I expect to teach next year, I had better whip out a few pieces, have them photographed and write and submit my proposals in the next week or two or I will miss the window of opportunity. There are kits to prep, pickups to make and tools to test for the work and classes I am scheduled to do and teach on the near horizon. And if I don’t sit down and write out bills soon I will be in deep doo doo.

Ay jai jai.

I’d love to have a week off to think about what I have just accomplished, but I can’t have that now. I have to wait for it. But I am certain when I do get my vacation it will be oh, so sweet. Until then, pass the umbrella, please — because it is a monsoon!

Finish What You Start

Very often, I get about halfway through something I am making and decide I absolutely loathe it. Usually at that point, I put the offending object on my bench in disgust and walk away from it for a while. It is uncanny how often I get just to the point of frustration or fear or boredom and I stop working. But this year, I am determined to go forward when that happens, even though I want to stop. Because everything I have read and seen and understood about creativity in recent weeks tells me that this is the thing to do. When every fiber of your being is telling you to stop, you must keep at it and finish. It is very difficult to do, but you must.

Because, creativity can only happen if you show up for work.

So, I have 4 half finished objects on my bench now at various stages of stall. There is a pendant I like, but there is one problem area in the reticulation I am in a quandary over, and I am not sure how to proceed with it. The next piece I am a little ticked over, because I snapped the cabochon I was polishing for it about 2 seconds before I was ready to drop it in the setting and I could kick myself for fussing over it, because now I have to cut another stone, and none of the material I have is quite as nice as the original. Then, there is that textured copper piece with the surface folds, but I haven’t really resolved the way I want to drill and attach the stone to that one in a way I am pleased with. And last, but certainly not least, is the ring I fabricated to showcase some glass beads I made myself, but I want to replicate the design in a different metal. And, I hate to do it again, but I know I won’t wear it unless I make it in silver.

Of course, it is so easy to avoid those things I have to finish, but this time I am determined not to. Even though paperwork, and cleaning and laundry, the garden and cooking and all those other things are there to divert my attention, I will not abandon those four projects. I can’t. Because I will let myself down if I do, and I refuse to let myself down, even if I end up sitting at my bench all day tomorrow staring at them like a child in a dark dining room in front of a cold plate of brussels sprouts their mother is forcing them to eat. I will finish them if it kills me. Because my reward may not be a piece of finished jewelry I like, but it will be something way more important. Belief in myself. And, in my world, that is a far greater reward than any finished object that I like or don’t like.

Stretching my boundaries

This weekend I just completed one of those inevitable “favor projects” that come your way more and more often when people find out you are a jeweler. But this one was different. This one was a turning point for my confidence, plus it gave me several ideas for some work I would like to make because of what I accomplished doing a favor for someone else. Nice.

So far I have done about 10 repairs this year. Everything from patching a strip of silver onto the inside of an over stressed cuff bracelet that had cracked, to sizing down a 10K gold ring with the stone left in place. Every repair that comes my way sends a tremor of fear down my spine because I dread the unanticipated mishap that might cause me to turn someone’s treasured jewelry object into a molten puddle. Luckily, I haven’t done this yet.

The cool thing about these little side jobs is that they give me a chance to challenge myself in ways that I like. Because, there are challenges that make you grow as a person, and there are challenges that are just a big fat pain in the butt. I do my best to steer clear of the latter, but sometimes they are unavoidable. Anyway, back to the latest project.

What made this project so cool was the thought behind it, the meaning of it, and the symbolic gesture it would become once I completed my part of the deal. A talented and creative friend of my son’s asked me to saw an antique silver serpent ring in half so he could present half to his beloved for her birthday on Friday. A relatively easy job of anneal, flatten, cut, anneal and coil again. But, what made it cool was that I sawed the serpent in half down the length of its spine — which created two separate snakes that could be worn together as one — or worn as two rings by two people who have to spend time apart, but are as interconnected as that snake originally was. As I cut that little reptile in half, it set my imagination on fire.

I put the package in the mail yesterday with a big smile on my face. Because now I have 3 pages of ideas I have sketched out due to the concept of that little ring. I can’t wait to get to my bench this weekend. Best of all, I can buy some metal with the fee I received for doing the job. Double nice.

Thank you for your hard work

Every month, I spend a few hours on the weekend creating a kid’s page with science, anthropology, nature or history as the main theme. It is a small freelance gig I have done with a dear friend for many years, and the page is syndicated and published by what remaining small newspapers are left in north America. I certainly don’t do it for money, because there isn’t much of that left for content creators in the publishing business. You see, producers are on the bottom of the food chain. Sometimes, the time I spend on this work is many hours more than I am paid for. No matter. Because, I do it for the love of the topic, my love of drawing, my love of teaching, and for the idealistic hope that a child somewhere will be inspired to care about animals, plants, other people, and places beyond their own after reading what I wrote or seeing the artwork I have made.

Every year at this time, I get a hand written note from my friend, with my tax forms, and a small book, box of tea, chocolate bar, card or picture she has painted for me — to say thank you for sticking with her, believing in the project and carrying on despite the very small financial reward for doing so.

Thank you for your hard work. It is amazing how 6 words can hold so much power.

In my regular job this week, I spent many, many hours contacting brilliantly talented artists to request images for a special project I am contributing work toward for the 65th Anniversary Issue of Lapidary Journal. I have had long phone conversations and email exchanges with the most talented artists creating modern studio jewelry today. The most gratifying thing that has come from these exchanges is the number of times those artists have thanked me for my hard work. They have thanked me for being serious, respectful to the craft, and genuinely interested in the good of the work. They have thanked me for defending excellence, and doing my best to push for excellence over mediocrity. Many have told me that they knew that something had changed for the better in my publication starting around the time that I took my job there. Many times this week, I cried from the gratitude I felt after hanging up the phone.

Having that kind of exchange with a talented person you respect and admire is like food to a starving person. It goes a long way toward repairing the terrible, terrible accumulation of damage that can be dealt by working for huge corporate machines or their minions. It can heal the betrayals, snake bites and greedy carelessness that can be inflicted by egoists, hustlers, climbers and liars over the course of a career… And, it means the world to me.

So, now it is my turn. Because of those six words, I have an abundance of power today. I don’t have space here to thank everyone, but you know who you are. Thank you for caring about me and what I do. Thanks for taking the time to talk to me this week and last. And, here are a few specific thank you messages I must document here and now for everyone to see. Because what was given to me this week through your words or the beauty of your work has sustained me.

Michael Boyd, thank you for your hard work. Thank you for the art school discussions we have had at all hours of the day and night. Thank you for the scrabble games. Thank you for the coffee. Thank you for my birthday party, and thank you for teaching me how to cut rock. Thank you for encouraging me. Thank you for freely giving me what you have without a care for what you might get out of it. Thank you for being my brother.

Harold O’Connor, thank you for your hard work. Thanks for your dedicated and driven effort to create a huge, important and beautiful body of work. Thank you for teaching me about the solitary path of focused dedication.

Michael Good, thank you for your hard work. Thank you for changing the way I think about the world, life and the universe. Thank you for giving me the love of the hammer. Thank you for reminding me not to think — more often than how to think.

Linda Kindler Priest, Carolyn Morris Bach, John Iversen and Jim Kelso, thank you for your hard work. Thank you for the quiet beauty you bring to this world. Thank you for showing deep love and respect for nature with your art.

Tom Herman, Michael Zobel, Paula Crevoshay, Judith Kaufman, Judith Kinghorn, Barbara Heinrich and Pat Flynn, thank you for your hard work. Thank you for honoring color, design, metal and stone.

Namu Cho, Valentin Yotkov, Charles Lewton Brain, Mary Lee Hu, John Paul Miller and Tom Munsteiner, thank you for your hard work. Thank you for your dedication and focus on the development of a technique and bringing it to the highest form of beauty humanly possible.

And to everyone else I connected with this week, thank you for your hard work. You bring beauty to this world. It is what we need more than anything. Thank you.

Designing jewelry around a theme

I truly believe that your inner and outer worlds will try to reach an accord. It is the human condition to strive to understand. I also believe that if you are strong and reasonably stable, it is easy to convey something about your thoughts and feelings with your work — if that is the kind of work you want to make.

I created this to explore the concept of time. I have been sorting through time, objects and connections for about one year in an effort to determine what is essential to my life. Photo: Jim Lawson

Jewelry is an interesting medium, because there are so many things it does and represents — just think of all the levels of complexity surrounding the wearing of  a jewelry object. It can be symbolic and/or decorative, both personal and public, a display of tremendous wealth, status or modest means, “beautiful” or “ugly”, crude or refined, a gift, a commemorative item, a statement, an identifier, a memory, a connection to someone or some place — or not.

So, a particular piece of jewelry can mean very different things to different people, depending on who they are, how they feel and what they think about it. There is an accord between the wearer and the work. That accord is based in their feeling about that particular jewelry object.

What is interesting about making jewelry as a form of self-expression is that there are also many levels of complexity to contend with. When you make a piece of jewelry, what are you doing, really?

Do you ask yourself questions before you start working, or do you just go forward? What pushes you to create? How many minute decisions do you make before you touch your materials? Are you saying something? Solving a challenge? Matching an outfit? Stretching your skill set? Making a gift? Using a different tool for a change? Trying something you just learned? Copying something you like? Killing time by tinkering? Hiding from something else by going to the bench? Practicing? Losing track of everything in the sheer joy of making? Earning a living? Breaking new ground? Making something to sell in next weekend’s show? Filling an empty space? Trying to prove something? What?

There is no “correct” answer to my questions, so don’t worry. The only answer is the one you decide is correct. And it can be a different one every time you go to the bench.

For me, making jewelry is a way to show what I cannot say. I work in bursts, and I typically follow a path that in hindsight is logical, but in the moment of doing may not have any sense. There are themes I follow constantly, and I am driven to explore them. I will always challenge myself to solve a particular physical problem inherent to an object — like holding a stone or making a shape or a color or a line in a specific way that is visually appealing to me. But, at the same time, I am urged by my mind and feelings to “say” something with that work — even if it is just to myself.

You see, I don’t have any expectations from what I make, because I’m not trying to convince anyone to buy it or even like it. I don’t need to prove anything to anyone with what I make. My sense of self-worth is not connected to what others might think of me, or selling jewelry, or anything like that. I earn money doing other things that I am much better at, and I really don’t care too much about an object once I make it, because ultimately it is just a thing. I make jewelry to explore an inner urging that I must uncover and experience in order to grow and understand living here and now in this place.

That said, making jewelry objects is an utterly enjoyable process that I will not try to justify. I do it for love. I do it because I must — my hands need to make, and metal and stone are fascinating to me. I love the difficulty of this craft because it feeds my mind and my heart.

Why do you do it?

On Knowing

Recently, I have been purging deadweight from my life. During my latest paperwork shredfest,  a long-forgotten Myers-Briggs personality profile came to light. I endured taking that test long ago for a big, important, corporate job I held. I remember answering what seemed like an endless game of questions for the better part of a workday. The thing I remember most about the test was how many times it requested I decide what I thought other people thought and carefully fill in the oval. None of the given answer choices seemed correct, so being the person I am, I decided that I had no clue what other people actually thought inside their own heads. To be accurate, and to efficiently cross the task of test-taking off my to do list, I quickly dismissed any question that required me to decide what other people were thinking with “I don’t know.” In my view of the world, this was the only true and accurate response.

The thing I find interesting about the test results I received is that here, almost 30 years later, my personality profile is dead-on accurate. How could a test taken haphazardly by an impatient 20-year old be so right on?

I am an INFP. That means Introverted Feeling and Extraverted Intuition. So many people who claim to know me well dismiss that I am an introvert. Wrong. Introvert does not mean shy. Consider this: Introverts typically are drawn to their inner world, prefer to communicate in writing, work out their ideas by reflecting on them, focus in-depth on their interests, learn best by reflection and practice, are private and contained and take initiative only when a situation or issue is very important to them. OK. Check, check, check, check, check, check and check. Introverts draw their energy from within.

The way I take in information is Intuitive, and typically: they are oriented to future possibilities, are imaginative and verbally creative, they focus on patterns and meanings within data,  they remember specifics in relation to a pattern, move quickly to conclusion, want clarification of both ideas and theories before they take action, and they trust inspiration. Ditto on the checks. I take in information by seeing the big picture and new possibilities. I go by what I observe.

My decision-making is based in feeling. I consider what is important to me and others. I project myself mentally into a situation to consider possible outcomes, and strive for fairness, harmony and compassion when I make important decisions. I wish to be treated fairly and rewarded fairly for what I contribute and what I have earned. I am guided by my personal values. This assessment is a no Brainer and dead right.

My interaction with the outer world is one of Perceiving. Apparently, I seek ways to experience and understand life, rather than controlling it. I am spontaneous, flexible, casual, open-ended, adaptable, and energized when I must rely on my resourcefulness to rescue something at the last minute.

At first I thought this one was dead wrong, because I typically work like a field marshal, making both long and short term plans based in sound decisions. I want accuracy. I want a clear objective. I bristle at confusion, disorganization, forgetfulness, lack of planning, and shooting from the hip. I loathe discovering there’s a new directive du jour.

Upon further examination of my own way of being however, I have decided that my actual behavior in my own space and the role I play at work are often at odds. At work, I can vacillate between being a control freak or dismissing things that do not hold my interest or offend me. I will withdraw from both people and situations when my inner value system has been violated — unfortunate side effects of my personality type. When I am stressed, I become discouraged, critical, dismissive and judgmental. I doubt my own competence. Yep. I hate it when this happens.

Working at home every day has revealed to me just how much I am at odds with what I have to do vs. who I am. Being in my own space each and every day has fed the introvert part of my personality. After years of being knattered at and having my energy depleted in an office situation and by corporate conundrums, I have come into the power of my own space. It is glorious and makes me a more efficient creative contributor. I suddenly have so much creative energy available to me that I am shocked by my own efficiency and productivity. I am getting things done that have been festering for years, and I am able to sort crap out and ignore what is BS really, really fast now.

It is nice to know.

It’s a Wonderful Life

OK. I love that movie. And I cry every year around this time when I catch it on TV in the middle of the night — because I have insomnia or indigestion or a worry eating away at the edge of my serenity. It’s not like I don’t know what’s coming. I see it every year. And every time, the sentiment of it does its magic on my poor heart. And you know what? It is a wonderful life.

If you are a bitter realist, prone to negativity, biting sarcasm and mean spiritedness, stop reading now.

I am not saying I don’t have bouts of those qualities myself at the end of a pay period when I have 5 bucks and no gas in the car, or in the cold night of winter when I wake up with a turmoil in my head — its just that I am of a mind these days to stop those negative things in myself and to counterattack them with positive thoughts, deeds and feelings. Because that is my true power in this life — to manage my own way of being.

On that note, and in the spirit of the movie, here are 15 profound things that people have said to me through the years in my personal and work life that were pivotal in making me who I am here and now. Some of them seemed totally random at the time, but luckily I have an incredible memory, and I have internalized them into the way I exist on this earth. Lives touch other lives. Read them. Laugh about them. Maybe they will help you too.

1. “Helen, don’t hammer like a girl — and get that damn nail out of your mouth!” — my Dad, who I miss every day.

2. “Oh, honey, you are beautiful no matter what those mean girls say. They are ugly inside — and one day, they will be ugly outside too — and you will still be beautiful.” — from my beautiful mother, who left this place too soon.

3. “Helen, you don’t need a metals degree. Are you crazy? You have been earning a living with your art for 20 years. Why do you need another piece of paper that shows you know what you already know how to do?” — Sara Olson, my CE metals teacher.

4. “Those are the words of a poet. Only poets notice things like that. Why don’t you try to write more?” — Kitta MacPherson, science editor at the Newark Star Ledger.

5. “Oh, don’t give that free rent in your brain!” — my dear friend Pat Wood, who left this world too soon.

6. “Holy crap, mom! Are you sure you know what the hell you’re doing?” — my son Kyle, who reluctantly helped me — as we discovered that yes, I do know how to put together and fire up an acetylene torch.

7. “It’s just a piece of metal.” — Jim Dailing, my stone setting instructor at Peter’s Valley Craft Center.

8. “Helen — you give everything, everything to a job. But it won’t ever give back. And here you are — in anguish. Stop. Your gifts as an artist are for you. You are not obligated to give them to the job. Just work here. Keep what is yours.” — George Frederick, a great art director who can paint like hell.

9. “You really have no idea how wonderful you are, do you?” — my closest metalhead friend Lexi Erickson

10. “My beautiful Helencita, do not worry over that. They are just those little things of the life. Do not worry over that. We have only one life. Everything es todo bien.” — Jaimito Carvajal.

11. “Oh stop. It’s not like you have to wear a bikini on the cover of the magazine!” — Linda Ligon, founder of Interweave Press, dismissing my discomfort over appearing in an instructional DVD.

12. “Try to find an environment where you can manifest who you truly are.” — Albert Paley, CoMA Conference, 2010

13. “Insight comes when the mind is not in charge.” — Michael Good, in a metals workshop, Denver, 2010

14. “Art for me is the product of the creative process. That product can be ugly, beautiful, it can be conceptual or a narrative, or evoke an emotion. So, what is art? The first time you do something, it is art. The second time, it is work.” — Michael Boyd, my best brother — who isn’t.

15. “Oh stop worrying about making art. We’re getting paid, right?” — Andre Malok, a brilliantly talented illustrator.

Have a wonderful day.

Staying on course

I have been insanely busy over the past few months navigating through an office move, several extracurricular projects, a very full workload, a new and wonderfully fulfilling relationship, and some home improvement thrown in for entertainment. But I haven’t been so busy that I have failed to notice a disturbing level of negativity, blaming and stubbornness all around me — particularly in the arenas of business and work.

It is incredible how many times in the past few weeks I have hit a wall someone has built around themselves because they have focused all of their energy outward to prevent whatever it is they are trying to prevent from happening. It’s hard not to get sucked into it — especially when it seems that the force of the circling negativity threatens to pull everything down and in.

Believe me, I am not perfect — I often wake in the night fearing we are all going to hell in a hand basket. I am super-efficient and prone to dismissing what isn’t working well by just letting a bridge completely burn because it seems like too much effort to stop it.

I made a pact with myself earlier this year to accept and embrace that the only thing that is really in my power is the ability to manage myself in space and time. I can’t fix other people. I can’t make someone else fix themselves. I can’t change another persons way of being or replace what they are missing in their own heart, mind or soul — that is their own life’s work.

So, how do I fight it? How can I help somebody who needs help? How do I do battle with the negativity monster without losing myself in the war?

Every day, I thank whatever is out there for giving me this life. I pet my cats and tell my loved ones they matter to me. I thank myself for getting my lazy butt into the gym and doing some cardio, and for topping it off with a healthy meal. And, I am thankful and extremely grateful I have skills and the talent to provide me with a means to support myself in the current economic climate. I am grateful that I am mentally and physically able to work very hard and even do extra work to stay afloat in the churning storm. And, I fervently hope and believe in my heart that calm will come again.

Yes, I am grateful for this life, because I have seen what it might have been if circumstances were different when I was born. I try not to blame, even though the temptation is great. Instead of blaming, I repeat my mantra: ” All I can do is manage myself in space and time.” And then, I act on that mantra and manage to find a way in myself to turn negativity around and find something to be thankful for in whatever vexing thing is in front of me. When someone close to me gets sucked into negativity, I try to steer myself clear of their spinning, and then point out a direction they might navigate toward — to change negative thoughts they are locked into. I accept those things I have no power to change, and instead work toward keeping myself and my ideals intact in the face of it.

Try to find the good. Focus on that good and keep going. Help others to see the good. And be grateful for it.

It started with the hammer

Those protruding nails on the front porch started it. I was tired of catching the sole of my shoe on the same nails over and over again. So I grabbed my trusty carpenter’s hammer and whacked the crap out of the entire line of them. That run of nails along the one floor joist had worked their way up and out of the deck over the years — like a line of shark’s teeth lying in wait for an unsuspecting foot or shoe to attack — with rusty vengeance.

So, I went down the line, boom, boom, boom, nail after terrible nail. And somehow, the act of hammering down those evil nail demons pulled me up and out of the well of introspection that I have been inside of for a few weeks. The simple joy of the strike and the boom made me wake up and look out instead of in. My arm and my body remembered the feeling of the hammering and the comfort of that effort. I saw the hammer head drive the nails down into the wood one by one in incredible super slow mo. And it made me want to go back to my empty studio again. And it made me really want to work instead of just going through the motion of work.

I hammered metal all day yesterday and today I am back.  I am home again after the long journey in. Change does that. My mind was doing battle with a terrible thing, and the war has finally ended. I have emerged. I am OK. And now I know what I am going to do. I know how I am going to be. I know I can’t make everybody happy no matter how hard I try. So, I am going to start with me, and I have given myself permission — really, really — to disappoint people who have unrealistic expectations of me that I do not wish to fulfill. I will no longer give away energy and time to people who have none of their own and only take mine. Sorry.

So now, back to the hammer. The project on my bench and the anvil are waiting. you do your work and make your own way in the world, just like I am. You work, and I’ll work. I’ll share with you when I can spare the extra energy. If you play nice and share too.

Today’s tip: I have custom ground several Delrin forming hanmmers to match the profile of my steel forming hammers, so I have the option to either gently move or aggressively move sheet in the same bay of my raising stake. Sweet!

The demand to Go

I have never understood where or how the driving need to Go rises up and makes itself known to me. When I say Go, I mean go away at the same time that I am here. My mind and feelings are far, but I am right here next to everything, doing the same crap I do all the time. Going is a feeling or a thought or some other thing of the human condition — but the urgency to Go sometimes consumes me with the same intensity as hunger or thirst. It is instinctual and rises out of the middle of my body and I can’t think of anything else. I can’t do anything else. I am powerless in the face of it and I know I will be damaged somehow deep in my soul if I do not Go. It is like nothing else. And it will not be denied.

This is a source of tension and conflict for me. Because of the obligations. Accomplished people like me have many obligations, and people relying on them. Some obligations bring me comfort and joy — for the most part. Except when the need to Go comes to consume me. Then, those obligations cause me to become angry and resentful. I push them away, sometimes with violent force. I get crabby. I ignore the phone. I blow off my friends. I don’t rehearse the choreography. I become terse and sarcastic when interrupted. I eat crap and I don’t go to the gym — because I will die inside if I am not left alone to deal with the elusive thing that is calling me like a siren. I isolate myself from everyone and even become self destructive in an effort to escape the demands of obligation, routine, boredom and predictable mediocrity — and I Go to examine the thing that dances there on the periphery. I have no choice.

I can be difficult, arrogant and aloof. I know I disappoint people and I know I make them angry, too — that is a price I pay, and I pay it often. But I cannot lay down and die inside to meet the needs of somebody else when it is time to Go. I’ve learned not to make an effort to keep casual friends because I know it takes an unusually strong person to stick with me and I can’t bear dealing with disappointed people when they discover that I am there and then not there with equal intensity. Sometimes they stay, sometimes not.

The up side is that the few who hang with me through the tempest will be rewarded when I come back from following the siren song. I will be there for them stronger and better than ever,  because I had to Go to keep my soul alive. In the meantime, I am sorry for the lack of emails and phone calls, dirty laundry, blown deadlines, cat hair on the stairs, weeds in the garden, forgotten appointments, unpaid bills, empty pantry, lack of kibble and crappy dinner. I don’t really care about those things right now, but I promise I will be back again soon.

Please wait for me, because I had to Go.