I mostly love the jewelry that I produce. My background in spinning fibers helps me bring an unusual perspective when it comes to combining color. I love the varying finishes, sizes, textures, and shapes of various beads. I love that I seem to excel at this where in other crafts, my output was adequate but not prize winning. Not that I've won any prizes for beading either; I've not entered any competitions. I don't, at this point, intend to. But I look at my work and know that it is better than average.
In all my pieces, I invest my time, my skills, my eye, and my passion. But there is an occasional piece that I invest further in. I invest my heart. This is one such piece:
I've worked on this for over a year. In all honesty, I envisioned it in January, 2008, and started it then. Then I became so sick that there was no way that I could continue on it. My brain was misfiring; I wasn't capable of stringing a thread of plain beads let alone allowing my body to channel whatever it is that allows me to make bigger investments and take risks. I lay in bed for a year before being diagnosed with a combination of very rare bacterial infections that, once finally identified, were cleared up quickly.
I finished another piece and delivered it to it's owner, then a couple of weeks ago, picked this one back up again. It's beaded embroidery, and the embroidery portion is done. Now I have to cut it out, line it with leather, edge and fringe it, and make the collar of the necklace.
I'm scared. It's unusual that I should say this, but I'm frightened to cut it out and continue. This is a point in my work where a mistake cannot be corrected. At least I don't have the background and skills to correct it if it does occur.
So I think I will let the piece sit for an hour or two. Take the dogs for their walk. Maybe do my marketing and pick up multiple prescriptons for myself and Cosmos. Then come back and pick up the scissors.
This piece is crying to be finished. I would like to complete it within the next week.