It's a Weird World

It's a weird world right now.  My toddler told me that she thinks she's scared of Coronavirus.  It was an innocent confession, fraught with concern, made during the second time my husband and I had discussed the topic several weeks ago before much of the pandemonium began.  Much to my heart's dismay.  It was the first big news coverage of the virus in the US.  Being a sensitive family in this time is not easy, but there is a silver lining in this articulation of fear.  The silver lining, I believe, is in voicing our thoughts, our ideas for living in this weird period of self-isolation.

I've read so many accounts from parents who are trying to make things work, to continue on with life now like it was pre-Covid-19.  It cannot be done.  In truth, we have come to another historical era deeply steeped in reality.  With this pandemic, I believe we are unlearning our unproductive ways of thinking that revolved heavily on self-promotion and superficial social interaction and networking.  The magic now lies in more introverted, sensitive ways of doing, of being.  We are now teaching our children via how we manage daily life while physically sequestered away from others; learning is now hands-on and more spontaneous.  In theory, at least.  I like to think that in our boredom we find new ways of seeing.  More empathy and compassion in that we are staying in to protect the most vulnerable in our population.  And honestly, I'm loving it. 

My husband sent me an article from The New York Times about how children don't need traditional academic instruction during this time, but rather, engaged and loving parents:

For those who are lucky enough to have a stable home life, this period won’t be easy — on them or on their children. Children who are prone to anxiety may find this period especially challenging. But all the experts I spoke to emphasized that routine and simple affection are important.

I want to add that parenting means different things to different people.  We are just trying to survive and we will.  We will and are trying our best in the eyes of fear.  It terrifies me that the only tangible reference point we have to compare this worldwide upheaval to is: WWII.  We need to remember that with this virus, we are at war with a virus - not with people.  That, I think, is vital to our mindset as parents and as a collective society when it comes to raising our children during Covid-19 and beyond.  

Awareness is our lifeline.  Hate has no place here. 

Lately

The title of this post sums up how I've been feeling lately.  It's a simple - yet heavily used - word with a sometimes loaded subtext, a one-worded topsy-turvy conversation starter whose underlying meaning is simultaneously rooted in the mundane and the extraordinary.  At least for me.

Baby A. started crawling within hours of my last blog post, so we've been baby-proofing our living space and following her around on hands and knees to see what other shenanigans she could potentially get in to.  Now she can even kneel and push herself up onto her feet.  No pulling herself up just yet.  In awe I watch her, and almost miraculously, at least to me, she is becoming more mobile.  This natural growth progression amazes me.

On the shop front I've been thinking of new shop jewelry designs, which I briefly mentioned in my last blog post.  It's been a long time since I've made new jewelry (one year!), so I've designated this fall as my get-new-jewelry-made season.  I look forward to reacquainting myself with wire and stone, the sense of accomplishment felt when symmetrical coiling fits perfectly between the bail and the stone without the stone moving at all.  This technical aspect of jewelry making is actually my favorite part of the process besides the conceptual aspect of designing a piece, and requires a good visual estimation of how much wire to use, tight coiling, and technique.  Below is an example of what I mean:

Dainty Amethyst Ombre Earrings - Niobium

I've also recently been working on a few writing orders and shipped out a pair of linear moonstone earrings.  Next thing on the to-do list is to work on my main site, www.theintrovertedwriter.com, which is in need of a tone-specific overhaul.  Also recently been thinking of new business cards to replace my hand-stamped ones - yes or no?  I'm calling this summer the season of productivity.  Crossing my fingers.

Lastly, to all the dads out there, Happy Father's Day!

Summer Cleaning

We've been cleaning house.  It's been a struggle for me to figure out what to toss (or donate) and what to keep.  Shop supplies, I tend to keep.  Books, I want to keep them all--and that's the root of the problem when you have fifty-plus books and not enough space.

Maybe you have the same issue with books.  While cleaning, we carefully moved my grandpa's book collection into a nice old display case, all 100 or so texts in all.  Some are mildewed, others are taped using masking or Scotch tape, and others have pages missing.  All are yellowed with age; most are 60+ years old.  Perhaps it's from him, my grandpa, that I developed my love of books and infatuation with the written word.  I'd like to think so.

Still, I stare at my jewelry-making stone stash, especially when I receive inquiries about currently listed pieces.  The creativity is still there, but so is the overwhelming (physical) book stash.  I'll take my chances and partake in summer cleaning first.  Then I'll slowly ease into jewelry making again for it'll be a refreshing change of pace.

Lately

via Instagram

Quiet and crazy: this is how it's been around here lately.  With the weather changing manic-like from 75 degrees one day to 60 degrees a few days later, I'm still reeling from the effects of a too-early spring with profuse buds and blooms and pollen dusting everything.  It's supposed to be winter, right?  At this time two years ago, I still remember the hummingbirds leaving for a few months because of the cold, only to return in spring.  This year, spring has come in February.  A part of me is hopeful that winter weather will once again reign before April, for at least a few weeks.

The crazy weather coupled with the relative quiet in shop news has been a fruitful recipe for some belated (and much needed) introspection.  Shop, donations, creative direction, and my novel are all included in this thought process.  This month's donation will be humble compared to January's, but I'm happy to donate what I can with your help ($1 per item purchased will be donated to Feeding America).  Also, I've been working steadily on editing my novel, which is a refreshing challenge on multiple fronts unrelated to the shop.  I've stopped making new jewelry for the time being to reevaluate my shop's direction, but will still accept custom jewelry orders on a case-by-case basis.  This isn't a permanent decision, though--expect new jewelry to be made and added to the shop by late April.  My writing services and bookish wedding items will not be affected by this ruminative slant. 

I hope that things are going well for you all.  "Lately" has been lovely and disconcerting at the same time.  Life often works that way, doesn't it?  

On Writing More

This blog entry was increasingly difficult to write, so bear with me.  Creativity is a potent drink for magical thinking, but it can also be the source of all-encompassing agony.  It makes one person cry, while another buzzes with inspiration, and yet another metaphorically tears out her hair in frustration.  Over the process and its tumultuous fits and starts, the (in)ability to surmount an artistic blockage.  For the difficulty is always this: the process.  By making art, sometimes more of our imperfect inner selves is revealed than we can handle, and as a result, leaves us emotionally and mentally drained (and feeling vulnerable...).  Yet, when we can harness our artistic natures and surmount that creative block, oh, is it crafty magic.  If I could somehow distill creativity and inspiration into a bottle...

Sometimes I forget to draw a line between work and life, between obsessing over the details and just fully living each day.  It is a decision that can be difficult to make.  This is why I write and make jewelry and book page goods: tedium is released, the once-academic in me gets some mental exercise, and new jewelry ideas again surge with productive energy.  Writing tends to center me, while jewelry making is an energetic task.  Basically, I love them for different reasons.  It would be easy to concentrate only on jewelry making (and wedding goods), but I continue writing because it keeps me sane, endlessly inspired, and still.

Stillness is particularly important for those like me with ever-roving minds.  With stillness comes the ability to concentrate fully on the task at hand; this is especially helpful when it comes to writing.  Through personal writing, for instance, deeply held words are dripped onto paper out of my subconscious--I am often left wondering, after jotting them down, where the words had come from.  And with my writing services, a bit of myself is poured into this work, whether it is a well-turned phrase, a particular word choice, or even a stylistic lilt in sentence structure.  Every writer leaves her mark in subtle ways; I can tell when my writing has been modified by others for their own gain--but that is (kind of) not the point being made here.  The point is: by occasionally changing up my shop goals, the energy and mental clarity that is tapped into positively shifts my perspective on both work and life.  As a refreshing result, there is less obsessing over the creative block, and more constructive assessment of the direction of things.  I know that I am not alone in experiencing this.

Also, I know that balance is needed in all aspects of life if we are to function as the complex human beings we are.  After an intensive flurry of jewelry making, I am, humbly, writing more (present tense).  If all goes well, I will share some of that writing here.  Unlike my grad school days, writing more is no longer a chore; I no longer liken writing to the pulling of teeth without anesthesia.

Instead, writing is catharsis: it is the lifeblood of my existence.

* * *

I've also written about the writing process here and here.  

Bookends

Dark Space

During one of my recent photo sessions for some new jewelry designs, I accidentally took the interesting photo above.  It's a little artsy; a little dark and moody.  The colors remind me of the striations of a geode, albeit one of an entirely different breed: my photo session.  I'm actually not sure what created the colors, but I think it was darkness, light, and perhaps a table thrown somewhere in there for effect.  Oh, and a quick spin of hand for the blurred look. 

Perfect for Friday, the 13th.  So goes the dark, dark heart.

On Anniversaries

So, my third-year shop anniversary quietly paraded by this year, right before the Thanksgiving rush permeated the too-warm-for-autumn air.  In my state of delirium, I forgot about it entirely.  That's okay because I initially remembered a few days post-anniversary, but this was only after I stared at the "opened on" date in my shop for a good few seconds--or minutes.  Then I had a good laugh of the forgetful nature, one of those carefree-yet-guttural deep laughs that resonate from the gut upward and end in a joyful, muffled giggle.  And giggle, I do not do often.  I guess only on anniversaries that I forget, and perhaps when I am slightly uncomfortable.  Most often, I observe.

As autumn begins winding down to winter, I hope to observe everything around me, taking it in and holding it dear.  I think it's appropriate closure for a long-short year.

When Has Introversion Become Popular?

23 Signs You're Secretly An Introvert

Is it just me, or has there currently been a plethora of articles and books touting the benefits of introversion and introverted people?  These subject-specific writings typically state introvert traits and then attempt to explain them through an extrovert's eyes.  I get that the mutual understanding and respect of personality and relational differences, rather than finger pointing or dismissal, is important to general societal well-being and personal relationships--but when has the quiet, thoughtful type become popular?  I understand the marketing value; it is the popularization of the concept itself (which is by definition the opposite of extroversion) that I do not understand, since introverts tend to avoid the crowds, so to speak.  We have always been misunderstood and misinterpreted, so why all the fuss now?  Maybe it's pure inquisitiveness.

On the topic of introversion vs. extroversion, a confusing thing about the whole introvert-extrovert spectrum, because it really is a spectrum, is that humans are far more complex than we acknowledge ourselves to be.  We derive our stolid importance from our black-and-white categorizations, our personality tests, and our personal identifications--which more often than not are rigid and lean strongly towards the extrovert ideal as the measuring point.  The truth is that most of us fall somewhere in between on this spectrum, although we are sometimes unsure of how far we lean to the left or right.  Being comfortable in one's skin is the key here because as we all know, popularity is a fickle, unpredictable bedfellow that is both a sign of the times and yes, faddish.

* * *

If you're interested in reading about introversion, I highly suggest Susan Cain's Quiet.

Late Summer Update

How have you been?  Your summer?  I've been hunkering down lately, working routinely with ideas and bringing them to life.  It's been tough at times, this all-consuming idea tinkering, but I feel the most creative like this: drawing up plans, tweaking ideas, and working with my hands through product design and photography.  Sounds fancier than it actually is.  What it really entails is a huge mess of scrap paper, stamps, jewelry stones, and wire sprawled out on the floor...and on two desks.  I have to have everything all laid out in front of me.  This work can be tedious; occasionally, day-long projects are scrapped entirely.  Some project ideas have fallen by the wayside, while others consistently keep me moving--it is these latter ones that cast an inviting, golden glow amid the overcast sky just beyond my window.

This summer has been the time to tie up some loose ends, but with the onset of fall comes a sudden inspiration, much like the heightened, awe-like state of seeing waves crash violently along a craggy coast for the first time.  You are humbled, by your very nature, of being so feeble and small (insubstantial, really) compared to the mighty roar of nature--this is currently how I am feeling in regards to the flow of ideas that I am now decidedly working with.

Like how some people crave sunshine and picnics, I like craggy coasts and the white-noise sound of waves crashing against them.  Ever so timely yet unpredictable, it is much like a euphoric melody.

Waiting Impatiently for Autumn

I'm already craving tea like crazy.  And hoping that it would downpour.  From sky to ground, clear up the knotty mess due to drought.  Reading while cozied up in a blanket, hot milk on the tabletop.  Golden yellows and reds.  Plum purples and rich, decadent browns.  I want to wear my knit beret.  Sing songs under a diffuse, darkened sky with the warmth of our voices to carry us on--Chesapeake bellowing deeply from our lungs; melancholic melodies courageously emptied from our hearts.  You pour, I drink it in, let it seep in far beyond the blue.  And it sinks...through veins and capillaries, diffuses through all the dark, ample muddy spots that you thought were permanent.  Impermanence: you scoff wildly at the mere thought of it while a frenzied laughter permeates the air.  You know what?  I can't help but laugh too because you were right.

Mid-Year Thoughts

Is it already past the mid-year point?  I cannot even begin to fathom how quickly the year has unfolded, molding itself into a largely non-linear course of days, weeks, and months--culminating in now.  Some days feel infinitely longer than others, while others overlap and converge.  Is it the onset of age that makes one forget what one did yesterday?  At least it's written in my journal.  You see, that's something that I've begun doing on a regular basis just this year--after a handful of years of intermittent journalese and stream-of-consciousness scribbling.

When I reflect back on the six months of time immediately past, a recurring thought is:

How is it to be?

As in a general time frame and, more specifically, mortality--the age-old identifier of getting old.  It's not that I fear aging, since it's actually quite the opposite, as I fully embrace it.  Age, for me, is merely a number that grows in increments of one per year.  But some people mourn the years that are forgotten, the messy lost years. 

* * *

A few weeks ago now, I printed out seven copies of my thesis to be bound and submitted for summer 2013 graduation.  My husband took the ambient-rich shot below, of five copies, for the other two had yet to be printed.  It has taken me a difficult six years to obtain this degree, but I realize that time--so fleeting, so terse--has a strange way of providing lessons; coming full circle.

  

Taking a peek outdoors, I spy on our hummingbirds, stealth-like and spry, in hopes of one day being ignored rather than spied on.  With their daredevil spirit, hummingbirds make up for their diminutive size.  If only we were so gallantly protective, graceful, and street smart--all at the same time.  However, if hummingbirds were human, I am unsure if I would like them more than I do now.

The future holds infinite possibilities against a darkened sky. I just have to seek them out, push myself to look beyond the deepening horizon, and try.  Trying is the most difficult part of it all; at times it is the dooming precursor of frustration more than the origin of inspiration.  But it's always the process that is itself, contradictory: while confining one like a canary, the process can allow for a critical learning experience, too.  Like journalese and stream-of-consciousness scribbling, attempts at uncovering the unknown are ultimately, undoubtedly worth it--to the bleary eyed and worn, included.

What I've Learned

I've been thinking about posting about this subject for awhile now, but in the past, I deeply felt that the topic was far too personal, and of paramount significance, to simply sit down and type away at.  What I did not want was a lackluster blog entry, for it would be easy to publish a post that would be overly sentimental and thankful--or at least, one that would come off that way.  I wanted the entry to reflect the thought process that I've gone through and continue to go through, which I find to be so important for the work that I do.

This post is my wholehearted attempt at this.

When I started my shop in November 2010, I would never have thought that I, through it, would be somehow touched by others, much less world events.  It all began with my first shop sale to the Sendai region of Japan, which would, less than five months later, be devastated by a horrendous earthquake and tsunami.  Watching the disaster unfold on television, I sadly realized that the region was that exciting first sale's destination.  This was part of the reason why I continue to donate the proceeds from designated items to the Japan Earthquake and Tsunami Relief Fund via GlobalGiving: there is one item left in my shop for this cause.

The event of the Japan earthquake and tsunami was not the last time that my shop would link me to another natural disaster.  In late 2011, I sold an item to someone, who in turn gave the item as a gift to a friend.  It turned out that the friend lost almost everything in Hurricane Sandy, and searched for the item-gift from my shop among the disaster zone that was once called home.  The EmeraldCut item was eventually found, I believe, but was in non-salvageable condition.  This person's friend, the one who purchased it from my shop, contacted me shortly after Christmas 2012 to recreate the piece--it continues to be one of the most meaningful items I have ever created.  Via PayPal, I am donating the proceeds of selected items to the American Red Cross for Hurricane Sandy relief and rebuilding; two shop items remain.

Other shop moments that I continue to hold close to my heart involve the significance of family.  One buyer commissioned a good luck-type pendant to start a family.  Another had parents who were ill, and asked me to create a piece with particular stones to represent family members--so that they would always be near.  This truly resonated with me.

With each piece I create, there is a deeper meaning than what can be read or seen on the exterior.  And it's not solely the work that I've put into designing and creating because it also includes what I've learned in the process from others, as I've discussed here.  It's pretty intense, this life; these lessons have not fallen by the wayside.  I'm thankful, that's all.

Indoor Decor: Memories

Left to right:
Creamer with spout: stayarthomemom
Organic white bud vase: honeyandheat
Tall brown vase: StoneworksPottery

(In the white bud vase is a portion of the dried thyme bouquet from our yard, which I blogged about here.  The doily is from a local brick-and-mortar teashop/antiques shop.)

I've never been much of an interior decorator in any sense of the word, so when I saw that these pottery pieces fit well together--in an eclectic sort of way, it genuinely made my day.  It's kind of like life in that respect...a mish-mash of occurrences and daily routines that are not outwardly connected in any meaningful or tangible way.  That is, until something interesting happens, and you see that each step taken has gradually lead you to your current situation, your current frame of reference.

I realize that it's probably not a good idea to compare life to the accumulation of things, since life is immeasurable and priceless, and commodities, well, always have a price on their heads.  However, in this life, we accumulate things that we place value on, whether it be intrinsic or overt, so commodities are, in a way, a somewhat accurate measurement of our lives, revealing what we hold dear.  In an instant here; in an instant gone--but always an insight into the lives left behind.

The Gale Winds

A few nights ago, the heavens forcefully spilled forth, opened its mouth and bellowed.  Winds hit up to 50mph, so my husband says, and I heard their fury.  I heard whams and booms and slams; car alarms sounded in a haphazard succession.  The double-paned windows shook with an exasperated rattle, as if they were made of paper and not glass.  I watched slender-bodied trees bend for minutes on end, etching elongated, darkened shadows in the night sky.  When the lights flickered well after midnight, I began to worry--just ever so slightly--for the mad howl of wind coupled with strange, foreign sounds and complete darkness conjured up spooky thoughts; my imagination ran wild.  Under different circumstances, I would have considered the winds a magnificent natural occurrence.  Isn't it funny how loud things that go bump in the night can frighten one so?

As night made way for dusk, as day perilously broke, the winds mellowed into a consistent, strong breeze that lasted the entire day and rushed into the evening.  That morning, I took a quick peek outside, and all seemed normal--not a leaf, branch, or petal was visibly out of place.  Perhaps the newly planted seeds have blown asunder, but even that could not have been fully prevented anyways.

Reflecting back on this experience...I genuinely believe that humans have something to learn from nature, which is that the natural world moves forward.  Broken branch?  It'll be fine.  Gale force winds?  Bring it on.

Presently

Desk space, March 2013

Happy almost weekend, folks.  My mind currently feels like the above image of my current desk state: ideas looming and swelling in an abstract, jumbled mess.  The issue at-hand is that I need a clean space in order to work with my thoughts and ideas, but at the same time, I need to visually see the pieces laid out in their entirety before I can make any decisions.  And who says that the creative process isn't tough?  So this is what I've decided must be done: 1. Take a very deep breath and sift slowly through the odds and ends, 2. Sort out what exactly I am striving for (with my time--and likewise, my budget), and 3. Follow through with it.

Now, how's that for toughmindedness?

Just Like Him

 

"they tell me I am just like him but there are things about us both I don't understand

I guess i've just had a lot on my mind these days
I've just had a lot on my mind"

(Lyrics from Hannah Miller's Bandcamp site.)

* * *

Been feeling this song so much lately; it's one of those ruminative gems of a piece... 

I found out about this talented singer-songwriter through NoiseTrade, and immediately smitten with her voice, downloaded four of her songs here (it's a live compilation album).  Mellow, thoughtful, and easy on las orejas makes it a perfect "on repeat" Sunday song as I start on some new shop designs!

One of Those Days

It's one of those days where you just want to curl up into a ball and spend quality time hiding in a pile of blankets, pillows, and sheets: seeking comfort in warmth that is not skin.  Hot peppermint cocoa tea is idly sitting on the windowsill, a few nibbles of chocolate is required to pass the time; your preference of a well-worn book rests on the nightstand as you watch the sky converge and then solidify in the magnificence of blue, pink, and black.  (You'd rather that it not collect dust.)  The sky steadily wails, the wind continuously lurks--menacingly pulls on the ends of branches, grass, hair--while sunlight carefully peeps out from behind the cumulus clouds, keeping in line with the earth's winter tilt, as you let out a reverberating sigh that glides, bounces off walls and windowsills, desks and drawers.  You take it all in, breathe in the slow rush of the day, grateful for today's work.

Dream in Green

Feeling quiet, a subtle warmth radiates from my cocoon-like abode on this chilly end-of-autumn day.  The cocoon is a semi-permeable barrier from the outside world with just enough space and textured translucency to gently filter the sunshine in.   

A contemplative Etsy Treasury curated by Blushie, titled "Dream in Green," reminds me of the natural world's beauty, a calming retreat to nature that helps to put everything in perspective as we laugh and cry, and still remain hopeful, which is, I think, the ultimate collective strength and beauty of humankind.

12/23/12:
Happy holidays, as I take a brief blogging break.

Spirit

Does it feel like the holidays to you?  As in Christmas is in less than two weeks?  Not really, at least here.  I was tempted to title this post "Bah Humbug," but it was already taken by this smart lady, and her post pretty much summed up the not-so-festive holiday feeling that I am currently experiencing--I couldn't have said it any better.

So here I am listening to Jagged Little Pill instead of the contemplative jams of the more mellow singer-songwriter variety, and I am certainly feeling fine.  (Christmas music is not my forte, anyhow.)

I spent six hours yesterday doing holiday stuff, and to tell you the truth, it was fun--especially since I purchased the majority of the gifts that I didn't make myself in early autumn; most from online sources.  That way, I was able to ease into the holiday season, and still enjoy the peppermint hot cocoa without absentmindedly burning my tongue.

This easing into the holidays got me thinking: the holidays is beyond giving the "right" gift (or not), and is also more than just spending time with family.  The entire point of the holidays, perhaps, is to learn about yourself, such as your strengths and weaknesses; your consummate burnout level in a time of potentially high crises.  One's dogged aversion or warm embrace of the season of giving takes on a whole new meaning when put into this context.  Realizing what makes you uncomfortable--or comfortable--about the holidays, and how these categorizations can change circumstantially, reveals to you the you of the moment disguised as (the lack of) holiday spirit.

Feign enthusiasm, I cannot--and I will no longer punish myself for it.  Conversely, if I happen to break out into a holiday jig, I will not punish myself for it, either.