This Is The Ugly Truth...

Several years ago Sam bought a new Mustang convertible. And his mom, who had been living next door and housing visitors for years, moved. And we had no garage space or any room for visitors. And I wanted a studio.

I have loved lampwork beads since I first lay eyes on them. For years I bought them from some of the best lampwork artists I could find (and afford) and made jewelry that people bought (which always amazes me) until one day at a small somewhat-local science center I tried making beads myself. And I was not very good at it. And there really was no instruction. And I was wrapping the mandrel around the glass instead of the other way around.

But I was hooked. I fell asleep thinking of color combinations. I daydreamed of different shapes and techniques. I bought how-to books years before I ever owned a torch.

And then the day arrived and I got a studio.

It's a total mess, I know. This is my New Year's Resolution. For 2010.

When I step into it my mind starts spinning. Which is why I don't get around to cleaning it. Or maybe it starts spinning because it's such a mess. Or maybe it's my type D personality.

I love my studio. Even if I have to share some of the space with this:

Or sometimes people like this:

I'm a lucky girl.

Grey Might Be My New Favorite Color

Mendenhall Glacier, just outside of Juneau, Alaska

Michigan is beautiful. I will be the first to admit that sometimes when I drive into town all along Lake Michigan, I am blown away. The lake can be ragged pewter, eerily calm, strikingly fragile and I'm quite in awe of it. How I don't drive off the side of the road or into a tree is rather a mystery.

But we just returned from Alaska on a 7 day cruise through part, like about an inch, of the Inside Passage. I was sorely disappointed to read the weather report before embarking that the whole week would be rainy and 50 - 60 degrees. We've had a whole summer of that in Northern Michigan. Except while we were away, of course.

And guess what. It rained. Oh, not every day, but on glacier day it rained and it was freezing cold. And the lack of color was misty and mystical and had a depth of soul that isn't apparent in the bright neon of Caribbean color. Not that it was better. It was different. And just as inspiring.

If I could capture this color in glass, I would be quite impressed with myself. And I will brag about it. This glacier ice, part of Dawes Glacier way up the Endicott Arm, is like looking into a beautiful, airy, airless abyss. Ice and glass have much the same look. I'm going to play with blues and clear and texture. Along with the ivory that inspired me and walrus bone that was used by some jewelers whose work I admired.

But I wrestle with being inspired by Alaska versus being inspired by Michigan. Living in a tourist town I know, especially after being a tourist for 10 days, the importance of finding the exact souvenir that will remind me forever of this trip. I'd like to provide that for someone else...does that mean Petoskey stones mixed with glass? Or glass that represents Petoskey stones, the state stone of Michigan? Or does it matter?

Focus

I love this focal bead, but in no way, shape, or form does this picture do it justice. My photography leaves something to be desired.

This might be why. This is a picture of my set-up. These pictures were the result of that set-up:

So I spent all kinds of time and very little money creating this beauty

Yes, it's a box. I cut out the sides and top, duct taped plastic drop cloth sheeting over the sides (as an aside, did you know that duct tape is one of the worst things that you can use on duct work? I learned that on Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me.) and draped a kind of sticky drawer liner on the back and down the floor of the box. It's my attempt at creating something like this

a light tent, an item that I didn't realize cost only $19.99. I probably spent that much on drawer liner paper and the plastic drop cloth. Although I do have left overs of both items and you can't line a drawer with a light tent.

I don't think.

This arrangement plus Sam's camera

resulted in pictures like these:

Which aren't bad, but then I used the same darn set-up

and ended up with pictures like these:

I went outside a took pictures both with Sam's "real" camera and my point-and-shoot:

my little point-and-shoot

Sam's "fancy" camera

Sam's camera because my point-and-shoot couldn't even focus on this bead.

I took a long time setting up these shots:

The irony to all of this is that I think the best jewelry photos I've taken are of these beads:

Want to know my secret? My little camera on a tripod, two sheets of typing paper over top of my open computer, and a light shining down.

That's it.

So, for today, I give up on the photos. And next post I'll cover some photos of jewelry that some day I'll be able to replicate.

In my next life.

My Mused Has Been Torched

Inspiration is a fickle mistress.

I have no idea who said that originally (believe me, I looked for at least 30 minutes all over the internet and also in my handy book of quotations), but it's true. It's also true, in my case, that if that fickle mistress isn't given regular attention, she's outta here.

I do know who said this quote, however:

Genius is one percent inspiration and ninety-nine percent perspiration.

That would be Thomas Alva Edison who pretty much wrote the book on both inspiration and genius.

Lately, the well has been dry. Not bone dry. Not completely blocked. Just down to a trickle. Little pebbles, rocks, stones, placed by small, playful hands have blocked the even flow and have relinquished my beadmaking to a cliche of bead pairs. I have nothing against bead pairs. They're an art form unto themselves; evenly sized beads aren't the forte of a beginner. They're also quite usable in bead designs and make killer earrings. But there's nothing avant garde or inspirational in these bead pairs:

See?

I just started reading The Bone People, a book that is going to change my life, my friend Copland assured me. Well, she just said it was her favorite book ever, but I'm sure that's what she meant. So far I've been very taken with the cover, a little piece of inspiration in and of itself:

I googled the author, Keri Hulme, and an artist one of her main characters mentions, Fujiwara Takanobu, and I googled Maori and aboriginal art. I have no idea what order I did any of this, or how I ended up with this site, but I am now inspired by Colleen Wallace Nungari's Dreamtime Sisters:

Sharon Hayes's Untitled

and Betty Mbitjana's Awelye and Bush Melon

Because, honestly, how could these not inspire you?

For the next few days I'll be putting in the 99% perspiration it takes to flame this inspiration and let you all know the fruits of my labor in my next post.