(Not my bead, but how I wish it was. One of Jill Symon's beauties)
I'm sure that really, the best beadmakers have one major thing in common. They make beads. And I know that seems obvious, but I mean that they sit down to their torches often. And they make beads that are ugly. And they have days that are off. But they continue to make the beads.
I taught middle and high school language arts for 8 years and there's a definite similarity in all things creative. First of all, like when writing, you don't know what kind of creative juices you can unleash unless you actually take the time to let them out. Stalking other people's creativity might spark a little of your own but not as much as actually doing the work.
I heard an interview once with Mary Karr, the author of The Liar's Club. She said she was not a great writer, but she was a really good re-writer.
You don't have the luxury with beads to rewrite what you've written. Once you've committed that bead to the kiln, it's over. But you do have the option, like everything else in life, of sitting down and trying again. Taking what you've learned and melting some more glass.
And I think that's the difference between the people who make really beautiful beads and the hobbyist.
This blog and my Etsy shop are my attempt at making beautiful beads, at holding myself accountable for producing something of value, and an account of the journey.