last summer i stumbled onto etsy during a google search.
last winter i decided to do some Christmas shopping the
handmade way
and came across this:
Gentled But Not Broken Ring
{{THIS IS NOT MY DESIGN.
IT WAS MADE BY THE TALENTED JILLIAN
AT THE NOISY PLUME!}}
so, i see this image of jillian wearing this
undoubtedly beautiful ring.
intrigued,
i decided to look at her shop and read more about this
giant piece of turquoise.
i read the description
and something inside of me understood.
so, i purchased the ring.
when it arrived, i examined it.
for the first time, i thought about jewelry as art.
i thought about it as having heart strings.
it was no different than the photos and paintings i was finding myself drawn to.
this piece of metal and stone was breathed into life in such a way that
i knew myself better.
i've had jewelry that was important to me,
but not jewelry that was LIKE me...if that makes any sense.
so, even though the ring is a 7.5 and the largest size that fits me is a 7,
i keep it and wear it anyway.
because something still and sleeping was stirred up in my chest, and
i wanted to know how to bend silver and
how to set stones, and
everything in me that i had been trying to pour into my art
was pounding around begging to be laid in metal.
i asked my teachers what they knew about silversmithing.
i looked up videos on youtube.
around the time i graduated college,
i remember telling my husband i found a class i wanted to take.
he agreed, and
in july i was there.
by the last few days, i stayed in the studio the entire day.
the teacher would leave for lunch and dinner...
my friend and i ordered in.
i just didn't want to stop.
since then, i have slowly been stowing away cabs,
collecting supplies,
hoarding sketches,
and trying to gain confidence.
and that's where i'm stuck.
i have a studio.
more than enough supplies to begin.
plenty of ideas.
an etsy shop.
notes from people i believe in tacked to my board,
ready to enourage and inspire.
but. i'm. frozen.
why is that?
why am i so scared to fail?
why am i not living my heart?
why am i blogging right now instead of playing with my torch?
why?
has anyone else ever felt this way?
ugh.
fly,
sarah beth
