I guess it’s about time I write more than one line in one of my posts.
These days I am dealing with the pre-christmas crisis that hits me every year, believe it or not for things to work out I have to start in October.
Last year, I had just moved to a new city and had started my first year in school, so basically decided to just do a few custom orders and focus more on getting adjusted to my new life.
This year on the other hand, I started to feel much more confident about my work (the artistic side of it that is) and building my own language.
Takes a lot of time to make each of these pieces and I am happy that I am forced to develop more personal work. Long gone are the days I made something thinking it had to sell, it had to be silver, it had to be perfect , now they are perfect in my own terms and which I hope to have the chance to keep developing in the future.
But then this week it just hit me! There are bills to pay, christmas is coming, I have 5 physical shops to fill, my poor online shop is quite empty at the moment and I have a half way made website, I have to make jewelry for 2 expositions and my school work… all this after the 7h I am in class.
I have to go back to production!
Which leaves a gap of 4 to 5 hours of work every afternoon before I drop and weekends.
I am writing all this kind of to make it clear in my head, when life brings CHAOS and it seems impossible, I tend to freak out, sleeping? no way, tend to slow down as well, but then out of the blue, I turn the “turbo” on and work like there is no tomorrow, it is only for one month an a half.
I think it’s interesting how these little storms happen,and how somehow it feels like there is too much going on, that overwhelming feeling that you work 10 hours and at the end of the day feels you didn’t do very much, it has happened before and let me tell you the sleepless nights and the worry all are so worth it.
” There are several reasons for the growth of interest in jewelry making.
Probably foremost among them is that many people have discovered the pleasure and sense of achievementthat accompanies the activity of inventing and creating an object.
It matters little whether the motive for this activity is to pass leisure time pleasantly; to preserve mental health through absorption in meaningful work; to enjoy the vanity of decorating the body; to engage in a remunerative occupation that pays the rent and fills the stomach; or attempt to achieve approval and fame.
Regardless of the motivation, craftmanship is the key that opens the door to the creative experience by which each of us, on any level of capability can realize the psychological and physical satisfactions which our minds and bodies require.”
(Inspiring Extract from Professor Hans Stofer’s keynote talk at the Craft Scotland Conference 2013)
What I like about making is that the pace of making dictates the pace of thinking. It is a bit like walking and thinking. This helps me to organize and structure my thoughts and allows the subconscious do the work.
There are many different types of making:
There is making to be in touch with what is real.
There is making to experience another reality.
There is making as thinking.
There is making as a reflective process.
There is making to visualize the unexpected and hidden.
There is making as revealing.
There is making to discover.
There is making to cover up.
There is making to produce stuff for others.
There is making not to have to feel.
There is making to let off steam.
There is making to help you focus your thoughts.
There is making to feel alive.
There is making to make sense.
There is making as an attitude.
There is making as identity.
There is thinking about making as an imagined form of making.
There is making as healing.
There is making as repair.
There is making as a form of object – rebirth.
And there is making as something that is essential to define the self.
But ultimately, to make is to hold OUR world between our hands.
I made a trade with Anne Dinan, you need to see her work ,to see why I became an instant fan of her work, we both met through flickr and noticed we had a lot in common and decided after sending eachother a few emails to do a trade based on images.
I received a lovely package with neatly packed little gifts.
Inside the box: a labradorite, an old piece which seemed to be a lid with a glass piece and an intricate brass frame, which will work perfectly for a piece in the future plus some amazing old pictures,Specially loved the pin:I sent her this ring, it is made from sterling silver and an enamelled piece featuring a lady and a gold speech bubble, I called it “Golden words” and it´s from my etiquette pieces
What do you think? There is a trading group on fb that Anne made after this trade and it looks amazing there is over 1000 people on it already, you can check it out over here
When I think i’m about to vomit a rabbit I put two fingers down my throat like an open set of tongs, and I wait until I can feel the warm hair rising like the fizz of an alka-seltzer. It’s quick and clean, it all happens in an instant. I remove my fingers from my mouth and with them a little white rabbit comes dangling by the ears. The rabbit looks happy, it’s a perfectly normal little rabbit, only exceedingly tiny, as small as a chocolate rabbit except for the fact that it’s white and most definitely a rabbit. I place it in the palm of my hand, stroke its fur with my fingers; the rabbit seems happy to be alive and hoovers about burying its nose in my skin with that quiet, ticklish gnoshing of a rabbit’s nose on one’s hand. It looks for something to eat so I (i’m referring to when this used to happen in my house on the outskirts of the city) I take it out to the balcony and place it in the big pot with the clover i’ve planted especially. The little rabbit pricks up his ears as high as they go, grabs at a clover with a quick swirl of his snout, and I know then that I can leave him there and go off, continue with a life that’s no different to that of so many other people who purchase their rabbits from farms.
For the full text click here.
“De Cuando en cuando me ocurre vomitar un conejito. Cuando siento que voy a vomitar un conejito, me pongo dos dedos en la boca como una pinza abierta, y espero a sentir en la garganta la pelusa tibia que sube como una efervescencia de sal de frutas. Todo es veloz e higiénico, transcurre en un brevísimo instante. Saco los dos dedos de la boca y en ellos traigo sujeto por las orejas a un conejito blanco. El conejito parece contento, es un conejito normal y perfecto, solo que muy pequeño, pequeño como un conejito de chocolate pero blanco y enteramente un conejito. Me lo pongo en la palma de la mano, le alzo la pelusa con una caricia de los dedos, el conejito parece satisfecho de haber nacido y bulle y pega el hocico contra mi piel, moviéndolo con esa trituración silenciosa y cosquilleante del hocico de un conejo contra la piel de una mano. Busca de comer y entonces yo (hablo de cuando esto ocurría en mi casa de las afueras) lo saco conmigo al balcón y lo pongo en la gran maceta donde crece el trébol que a propósito he sembrado”
El texto completo aquí