Lol!!!

I just saw the calendar, and it is roses, after all! That's what you get for not getting your facts straight!! :o)))

Calendar Girl

No, not like the WI calendar, you'll be pleased to hear, but I am indeed 'Miss October' for the Frit Happens Calendar for 2009. I pondered long and hard what to submit for it, and in the end, it wasn't a rose, but a dancer, and here's a little preview of her. Congratulations to all the calendar girls for 2009 (yes, they are all girls) :o)))

New beads & Pre-Christmas SALE

Oooh yes! I thought - why have a January sale when everybody's bought their presents? So I'm having a pre-Christmas sale, with nearly all jewellery reduced - including little Kohana here. Oh yes, and there are new beads as well. But I'm supposed to be working, so I'll sneak off to a work-work blog now and blog there instead ;o)

Lesson learnt

Well, I learnt a valuable lesson. On Thursday, my darling wonderboy knocked my entry to the Beads & Beyond competition off the mantlepiece. I can't say what the bead is, but yess, it was fully annealed, and no, certain types of bead should not be made to suffer the 'bounce test' on a marble fireplace board-front-thing. It was in - I don't want to lie, maybe not 1,000 pieces, but definitely on the wrong side of 200. Now what!!!

I tried to re-create said bead. And tried. And swore. And burnt myself. And finally did it - I think. Just like the first one, it's not perfect, but that seems only fair - if the magazine will accept it as a replacement. So what's the lesson? No, not to place special beads out of reach. But that there is a great difference between the odd stroke of luck and consistently producing high-quality work. I've never made myself try and reproduce an especially difficult bead, I just congratulate myself on the serendipity and move on. So, in a way, I'm grateful (in a very small way, you understand ;o)) - I never want to be a production-type worker, but I think I did learn skills in trying to do what I did again, and I feel that, now I have managed to make the most difficult bead I ever made again, I can say 'this is the type of bead I can make' - not 'this is the type of bead I can make on a good day, with the wind behind me, the stars in alignment and after a full fried breakfast only'. I think that means something. But I still haven't decided whether to try a similar bead today (not for the competition, just 'for fun') - or whether to leave well enough alone ;o)

If it's art, it's not for everybody...

...and if it's for everybody, it's not art. Discuss. An essay on that question got me into Music College (well, and my outstanding voice of course, lol!). But recently, I've been reminded of that quote. My beads are seeming to take a turn that takes them beyond wearability or practicality, and I am trying to reign them back in. The problem with sculptural beads is that they are neither fish nor fowl - not the type of bead you can easily string to a bracelet and wear within the hour, not 'sculpture', art that has no duties to fulfil other than that its owner places on it (I was going to say 'look pleasing to the eye', which gives away my very traditional views on art, so in what I'm writing, I fully acknowledge that artists do much more with their sculptures - challenge, dare, shock, encourage, fight........don't mind me. I just make roses.)

So, when I'm at the torch, and I follow the flow of the glass, start tweaking, twisting, crinkling, until the bead looks more like a lump of seaweed than something made of glass, what is it I actually do? Do I simply challenge myself to get more out of the medium? Am I playing sillybuggers, allowing my sense for the whimsical to run away with me? Am I wasting my time, creating beads that no person in their right mind would attempt to work into jewellery? Or am I (heaven forbid!) going down a route that leads to 'art'? And if Schoenberg (Arnold, 20th century composer....he of 'if it's art, it's not for everybody...' fame) is right, what does it mean when you're starting to produce beads only a very small minority will like, before you even have what could be labelled a 'customer base'. And does it matter?

Don't worry, the roses won't go away. And the lace sets won't either. And I'd show you the seaweed, but I thought I was getting poncy, so I chucked it in the water jar. I'll show you a rose instead, eh?

How good is 'good enough'?

I've been wracking my brain about this beadmaking competition, fretting about what to enter. So, why do we enter competitions? I decided to ruminate a bit on this, and here's the result (in no particular order):

1) To see my beads in print. Shameless, I know, but in the same way I get a thrill out of picking up an academic publication with my name on it, I know I will feel an irrational sense of achievement to see my bead in glossy print. Silly, I know, but there you have it. And because the magazine seeks to show as many entries as possible, there's a good chance my beadies will make the glossy page, if not a prize.

2) To promote lampworking variety in the UK. There is so much going on in the US, and I myself hanker after beads from several US beadmakers. But! there are sooo many excellent beadmakers in the UK, such variety, we should be proud of what we have achieved in the relatively short time lampworking has been around over here (and hats off to the old hands who held the fort!). It's about a community, and I'm proud to be part of it.

3) To put myself under pressure. Yes, I thrive on pressure. Sue me! :o) I love deadlines, I enjoy tinkering. The competition has allowed me to push my limits, to try new things, rather than settling for 'same old, same old' - and that's a good thing.

Those are my main reasons. So, what to submit? Something to show off every ounce of skill I possess (whatever there is ;o)? Something (as a friend suggested) that shows off the 'essence' of who I am, what kind of beadmaker I am? Errrrr....pass! The bead I'm most certain stands a chance of winning? Eep!

So I simply decided to submit the one that says most to me. From then on in, it doesn't really matter what it says to others. As Tucholsky says (he's a German writer, by the way, and I am paraphrasing!) - 'there's no such thing as freshly fallen snow. Somebody has always left tracks, been further, higher, than you. Don't let that discourage you. It's new to you, and that is all that matters. For you, the snow is fresh. Go on and leave your tracks.'

So, I'm not going down the 'safe' route, I'm not submitting a rose. I'm making my own tracks. Which is why....you can meet Racquel! :o)))

Some days are diamonds...

This morning while I drove to work, a song was playing on the radio, and it started with 'Some days are diamonds, and some days are rocks'. I googled it, and found it attributed to Tom Petty - and here was me thinking it was original, lol. Anyway, yesterday was a diamond of a day - or evening. While not all beads turned out beautiful, I learnt something with every one I made. And the glass was so well behaved. How funny that on days when nothing goes right, even the most forgiving glass shatters all around you, whereas on good days, even tricky techniques behave themselves?! Why is that? Do we relax more, making us less anxious? I've learnt the hard way that roses can't be rushed - if you don't take the time to keep it all warm, it'll just shatter in your hand. Maybe that has taught me more discipline with other beads as well...either way, last night, Sherry Bellamy's technique came together in a way that is different to her beads, so hurrah!

Also, the roses are getting bigger. Valerie (shown here) clocked in at 48mm across, the biggest I'd ever made....then came Racquel. She might be my entry for Beads & Beyond, so should I show her? ;o) Finally, I've found a way to glamourise the butterflies, so 'Akira' has Uranium-yellow wings dipped in gold. Me=Happy Bunny!