The Surprise Necklace for Renata

Nearly two years ago, Rico's aunt Renata saw the sterling silver version of the Floral Chain Maille Necklace and fell in love. Only she wanted it in 18k yellow gold, a material that I didn't know how to work with at that point in my metalsmithing training. Renata said that she would wait as long as it took, but that she wanted the first necklace in this design in gold.

Good thing Rico's uncle took note. Last year, when I finally started some goldsmithing, we made a plan to give this necklace to Renata for her 50th birthday. I worked like crazy over winter break (but in secret, because Rico's aunt and uncle were staying at our house!) , and managed to get everything ready in time to be hand-carried down to Brazil. That was in December, and I've had to keep my mouth shut for nearly two months, not an easy task since I was so excited about how the necklace turned out.

Yesterday was the big day, and Renata finally got her birthday gold necklace. As you can see from the photos below, I think she was pretty surprised. :)

That grin just makes my day. Every time I get overwhelmed by school and question why I am doing any of this if it makes me so stressed sometimes, I just need to look at this photo. It perfectly expresses why I love to make jewelry.

Renata's the perfect model for the necklace, no? What a glamorous way to make my entry into the Brazilian market!

Looking Back: Two Years and Four Months after Mozambique

Two weeks ago I was on the phone with my best group of girls from Mozambique. It's hard for us to find a time to chat nowadays, not so much due our busy schedules but because of the ridiculous time differences between the places we now call home.

K. is in Honiara (Solomon Islands), Z. is in Melbourne, H. is in Bogotá, J. is in London and I am here in California. There is only one special time that will work for all of us, and we manage to make it happen about once a quarter. We're incredibly scattered about the world and I haven't seen any of my girls in nearly 2.5 years, but we have one of those magic friendships where we gossip and philosophize and plan our lives as if we were simply having our weekend catch-up, poolside at Hotel Cardoso or possibly Clube Naval with a gin and tonic in hand.

(On a related note, check out this snarky gem of expat writing if you haven't already.)

In my last chat with the girls, the topic turned to whether or not we miss Mozambique. The answer, it seems, is totally dependent on where we all ended up post-Maputo. I have a similar perspective to Z. in that we are both very content with our new homes, our new occupations, our new lives. We are both putting down some solid roots in cosmopolitan cities with good weather, in which we have family and where our partners are content. Neither of us really misses Mozambique, in the sense that it was good while it lasted but we are glad to have moved on. Of course we feel moments of nostalgia and saudades. But in general we wouldn't want to go back, perhaps not even for a visit.

K., on the other hand, really misses Mozambique. Nothing like the perspective of living on a small, quiet island in the middle of the South Pacific to make Maputo seem like the most fun, fantastic, fast-paced and flavorful city ever invented for expats. K. and her husband miss the restaurants, the international crowd, the easy access to nearly everything, the endless opportunities for weekend trips, the (relatively) good connections to major cities on other continents, the solid group of friends... I'm not sure if they could go back if they had a chance, but Maputo understandably has become a grass-is-greener sort of place for them.

H. also misses Moz quite a bit and has already traveled back once to spend the holidays. She still has very close friends there, the kind that will likely never move away, so it's like a homecoming of sorts in that she is greeted with familiar faces and can easily slip back into the life she'd established there. Or so I imagine.

J. is somewhere in the middle I suppose, enjoying her life back in the UK and the excitement of a post-grad-school job search, but also ever-open to the possibility of traveling again. I'd guess that given the chance she'd travel back to Mozambique, but that it's perhaps not at the top of her priority destination list.

What's strange for me is that Mozambique had such a huge impact on me and yet I don't think I'd return if given the chance. I prefer it as a memory, preserved in time, protected from the inevitable disappointment and depression that I would feel if we ever went back. I don't really know how to explain this, especially because there *are* still people there I'd love to see again. Zeca and his family, for sure. The handful of friends in Maputo who call the city their permanent home. Hugh Marlboro. The guys from the local crafts council. Dona Lídia.

I suppose it's like returning to your hometown after many, many years away (Maputo isn't my hometown but it's the place where I spent the most time of my adult life - nearly five years). Everything has changed, and that is depressing. Nothing has changed, and that is depressing, too. People have left, and that makes you long for the good old days when you all used to hang out. People have stayed, and that makes you sad, too.

More than anything, a trip back to Mozambique would make me recall in vivid color the person I was back then. Not that I was a bad person or anything, but I was a *different* person. More immature. More insecure. More arrogant. More idealistic. Still figuring out an awful lot about who I am... There were good times - amazing times, for sure! - but I have a general bittersweet taste when I think back about the Moz years.

Rico and I often reminisce about how unhappy I was there. I know I cried often, that I had stress-induced allergy attacks every week, that I grew to hate the "development" work that had at one point been so inspiring, that I became so cynical I'd force myself to keep my mouth shut when meeting new people because I didn't want to come off as a total asshole and tell them their water sanitation project was doomed to fail.

I remember these things but they often seem like false recollections, like I'm telling the story of how someone else felt, not how I felt. It was bad but I don't remember the details. It was good, but I also don't remember a lot of the details.

For me, our time in Mozambique was characterized by an awful lot of gray areas. Swinging emotions. Sick feelings about what it means to be white and/or foreign and/or rich in a country where so many are born into situations of need. Questions about "development" and what motivates us to "help" others. Questions about who my local friends were and who their families were, realizing that all of that corruption and willingness to turn a blind eye comes from somewhere...Exciting, fun times in the midst of all that gray. Meeting incredible, smart, genuinely kind people from Mozambique and all the corners of the globe. Feeling humble. Feeling like a know-it-all. Living the jet-setting life. Longing for home.

I guess it's only fitting that my feelings post-Moz continue equally gray.

Rainy Skies Ahead

My mom always told me these are called mackerel clouds, that when the sky is full of dots and cottony, spotted patterns it means a storm is coming.

These photos are from several months ago, but I am posting them now in hopes that it will rain. Usually our rainy season starts in late October/early November and goes strong through March. Then we have a dry period for the rest of the year. It's no mid-January and we've not yet had any real rain this winter.

That looks like it may change, however, as the forecast is full of wet days starting tomorrow. I really, really hope this happens. For as much as I dislike cold, damp, dreary days it's making me depressed *not* to have them because there is no ignoring the strange changes in climate and what this means for our future.

Metalsmithing Changed My Life

I feel like most of the posts I'm inspired to write these days revolve around either how metalsmithing changed my life, or how a devotion to exercise changed my life. Ha!

For my first three semesters at CCA I did nearly all my work from the studio at school. We are lucky to have an incredibly nice, well-equipped, organized, functional studio, plus working there alongside my peers was motivating and fun. The only problem was that thanks to our brutal workload, I was spending an awful lot of time away from home. Also, any time I wanted to be in studio I had to go to school, which means dealing with the terrible traffic on I-80. It also meant that it was hard to capitalize on those in-the-moment bursts of inspiration where I would give anything to get my hands on a jeweler's saw and a blowtorch. Without a proper studio space at home, those moments would come and go, hopefully registered with a sketch for follow-up at some future date.

At the beginning of 2011, I decided to start setting up a home studio. I bought a jeweler's bench and began investing in tools so that I'd have the essentials to be able to work from Casa Cali. Rico and I went to Ohmega Salvage and improvised a soldering station: a pine table meant for the kitchen (it has a wine rack at the base) that we topped with a giant slab of black marble. The only catch was that I'd have to solder outside, as there is no way to get proper ventilation in the room I use as a workspace without tearing up a wall and spending a couple thousand dollars on a proper vent system. So the soldering station lives on our covered porch, and as long as it's daylight and the weather's warm it's fine. Otherwise I just have to bundle up and move a lamp from our living room outside so that I have a bit of light. I use an acetylene-air torch and it works like a dream.

The ability to do studio work from home, especially being able to solder, really improved my quality of life. I was able to spend more time with Rico and at home in general, avoided a lot of traffic, and better managed the problem of having to drive home from school at 3am after having done an exhausting 12-hour work session in order to finish a project.

If needed, I could keep working with my current home-office-studio arrangement until I was out of school. It's manageable, and a better option than before for sure, but I've already outgrown it. I simply need more space. What I call "my room" in our house serves at least three purposes. It's where I have all my clothes and shoes and accessories, where I get ready in the morning and transition into relax time in the evening. It's the room where I have all the random things I've carried around for the past 20 years, the precious collection of stuff that's made it through Albuquerque, Maringá, Rio de Janeiro, Austin, Chimoio and Maputo, not to mention a series of storage units.

I feel like in general I am waging a war against clutter. I'm constantly revising what I own, pushing things that I no longer use, or want, or have room for, find new homes where they will be better appreciated and used. I am always striving toward minimalism, because that's when I believe I'm at my most creative (and happy?). But there are definitely things I don't want to part with, at least not yet, and those things - the extensive rock collection I started as a child, bagfuls of Anasazi pot shards collected from New Mexico over two decades, my really big and cool stamp collection (started when I was in elementary school), my seashell collection, all of my journals (which take up an entire shelf), my bag of antique scarves, a handful of good costume ingredients, textiles collected while traveling - those random things are what inhabit "my room" together with my clothes. And a huge office desk for my computer, design work and to store office supplies. And of course this is the space where I make my jewelry and do my art. My childhood double-door armoire now holds tools - a dapping punch set, a circle cutter, a tumbler, assorted gloves and respirators, sandpaper, paints, shipping supplies. Not to mention the jeweler's bench, with a flexshaft, which is a bit of a footprint for sure.

In all honesty, "my room" is just about perfect. I could live in here for the rest of my life and be happy. But the space needs to have a priority defined. Is it primarily a studio, with appropriate measures for work to be made (e.g. ventilation system, fire-resistant flooring, a blowtorch inside the house)? Or is it a living space with some limited studio potential incorporated therewith? Trying to make it both has been a good experience, but I'm aware that the room takes away from my focus and potential on a regular basis because of the insane propensity toward clutter. I try to be as organized as possible (this is likely why I am OBSESSED with organizing - you have to be really good when you are dealing with a small-ish space that needs to have multiple functions) but still there is stuff all over the place all the time. It drives me crazy.

I work so much better in a sparse space. Not that the room can't have furniture and all that other wonderful stuff, but that I need a workspace, that is the actual desk at which I'm doing my work, that is as clean and minimal as possible. There is something about having an uncluttered work desk or jeweler's bench that is magic. It's like my mind finally rests and can then be open to intense focus and inspiration.

I am in the process of moving to a new, better studio space. It is in the ground floor of my mom's new house, a few minutes away from Casa Cali. It used to be a carpenter's studio so it "feels" like a workspace, and there is a nice sunny deck outside. It is big and industrial-ish, although inside a lovely house. I can make it a real work space, incorporating a small seating area with displays where I can receive people and meet with clients and friends. But primarily it will be a studio and work-making space. I am investing in shelving that is more appropriate to my needs (what a beautiful moment when you understand what storage and organization solutions will create efficiency in your life). There will be rubber coin grip flooring and a soldering area indoors, with ventilation, and space for anvils or tree stumps or whatever else I need but don't want to put in "my room" in Casa Cali.

School starts today and I am firmly in limbo between my current space, the new studio (it still needs to be painted, have flooring installed, etc.) and the studio at CCA. A lot of my stuff is in boxes. Organized, labeled ones for sure, but not in the most convenient arrangement for me to actually use them. I still need to box up a lot of things and empty out my desks, but I think I can get everything totally packed in a matter of 3 or 4 hours. Then I will need to make the studio useable at my mom's house. That will take a while, at least a week or three I think, under the best circumstances.

Basically I am doing a mind-shift and focusing on using the studio at school right now. I will keep the soldering station set up so that in a pinch I can do most things from home. But I like having my focus on one main physical work area, it really helps me be productive. And I definitely don't like being split over several different workspaces. It is inefficient and tiring, but feasible if necessary. I just want to get everything organized, now, right away in the new studio. But school starts today, so clearly that won't happen, at least I won't plan for it.

If metalsmithing has taught me anything, it's that things take at least four times longer than you estimate in order to really do them properly, and it's always worth doing them properly the first time. Taking the time to get it right at the beginning sets you on a much better path forward. I used to live a life that relied heavily on shortcuts. I knew that what I could pull together at the last minute was usually good enough, and certainly much better than average. I could get the good grades, turn in the stellar project, give an impressive presentation without *that* much preparation and effort.

But I was also always aware, in this seemingly consequence-less land of procrastination, that I only rarely got a glimpse of my full potential. Every once in a while I'd really invest in a project or a piece of writing. Through multiple drafts, revisions, adjustments, reworks, edits...through time, really. Only then would I realize there was a different level I could be on. Not just good enough to impress the rest of the world, but good enough to impress myself.

With metalsmithing I'm not saying that I'm producing the most amazing work ever, or that I'm a superior maker. In fact I'm squarely an apprentice, aware how much there is still to learn and refine in terms of skill and design. However thanks to my new views on putting in the time and getting it right the first time, the work I have been producing is all heavily laden with my time and effort and often tears. I cry a lot about school and my work. I think a lot of the people in the program do. I wonder if this ever goes away as you become more seasoned.

Anyhow, there is an incredible amount of emotional and physical energy in each piece, even the ones that are just little one-week projects. I've never worked so hard on so many things for such an extended period. No wonder I'm always having a mini-crisis! But honestly, I can see how my work is now an a different level, even though I'm still a learner. I continually impress myself with what I'm able to create, how much work I can bear and still be happy. I would never have pushed myself this hard if it weren't for school. I wonder now if that momentum will continue to carry me through my work once I graduate and am no longer in that amazing bubble where your work is everything and everything is your work.

I would imagine that someone more experienced would say that it's a shift in perspective that will allow you to continue to push yourself beyond what you think is possible on a regular basis. That you understand at some point it wasn't the school structure or critiques or social environment or even the grades or the accountability that made you work so hard. It was something inside you, that you can always access, that pushed you to be your best. That you must arrange your life so that it fosters this inside space.

And thus all the thoughts about organization. It all comes full circle, of course. I know that clutter is one of the main ways for me to dampen the magic, so that is why I am on a never-ending quest to be as organized, efficient and systematic as possible. I often feel very old and uncool harping on about the glorious potential of organization and discipline and fitness to change your life. But really, that's what I have to share about the last few years. The conclusion is clear to me, so I will keep talking and hopefully the fact that this all comes from a very honest and humble place will keep me from being too annoying. :)

Things I Learned About Myself in 2011

A slightly late, slightly incomplete recap of things I realized in 2011.

• I wear a lot of pink. I never though of myself as one of those girls who is obsessed with pink, but my friends at school started pointing out all the places there is pink in my life and I had a moment of truth. My favorite cardigan is mauvey-blush. My second-favorite cardigan is fuschia. My wallet is bright pink ostrich skin from South Africa. My fingerless gloves that I wear constantly are an antiquey rose. My Moleskine agenda was orchid pink. I love to use tourmalines and rubies in my jewelry. And on, and on, and on.
• My fear of parallel parking was totally rooted in not knowing how to do it properly. I never learned in driver's ed back in the day, never lived in a city where parallel parking was necessary, and when I finally had to do it on a frequent basis in Maputo there was always someone around (building guard, parking attendant, etc.) to guide me in at the right angle. Last year I finally learned how to parallel park. I still get nervous, but at least I know what to do to correct a bad start. Before I was just blindly turning the wheel and hoping for the best. I'm amazed I never did any serious damage. :)
• I love to run. I am addicted to running. I will make running a priority no matter how busy I get with school. I sign up for races and wake up before sunrise to get to the start line. I run in the rain. I run when I'm tired. Running is my miracle cure-all, together with dancing, but I'd always enjoyed dancing whereas running was possibly my #1 most dreaded and despised activity as a child and for most of my adult life. But now I've seen the light, and I doubt I'll ever stop. I'm at the point now where I unabashedly refer to myself as a Runner.
• The BPM dance music station on Sirius XM is a godsend. Twenty minutes in the car with it at full volume will infuse me with energy and put me in an amazing mood. I have a little dance party in the car every single day. I'm sure I look a little ridiculous, but I don't care.
• I learned a lot about how to dress for my body type last year. This may seem trivial to some, but I adore figuring out what looks good on me and what styles I should avoid come hell or high water (ahem. cropped pants, anyone?). I have a super long torso and short little legs. I am also blessed in the big-ol' hips/thighs department, have a tiny waist, and broad shoulders. 2011 was the year that I discovered dolman sleeves and horizontal stripes look really flattering on me (as long as the waist of the top is fitted at my waist), as do shorts over similar-colored tights. Who'd have thought... I also came to terms with the fact that I will never, ever look good in skinny jeans no matter how skinny and fit I may be. Ditto for crops or cuffed pants. I also bit the bullet and got rid of most of my dresses and skirts that hit mid-calf because my lifestyle doesn't really involve high heels anymore and they are absolutely necessary to pull off that otherwise dowdy, stump-ifying length.
• I also got rid of nearly all of my black clothes. Yes, black is classic and elegant, but it just seems too harsh for me. I wear black and feel like I'm in costume, as if I were wearing things out of someone else's wardrobe that are clearly not "me". I still wear black to work out, but somehow that's different.
• 2011 was a year in which I let go of a lot of obligations. Specifically I gave myself permission to sever ties with some people I didn't want to have a relationship with, be it unfriending someone on facebook, or just putting significantly less effort into the friendships/family ties that added a negative tone to my life. It felt good. I have no regrets.
• I fully owned the fact that I am compulsive, hyper-organized, competitive, type A and all that jazz. I have control and trust issues. I am known to freak out if my jewelry supplies are messy or the kitchen cabinets aren't organized according to optimum functionality. I feel soothed when I write my schedule in my paper agenda. My favorite thing ever is to write in engagements and doctor's appointments and dance classes for the whole semester or even the year. I like to do my taxes (and I do them on paper!) and find the whole exercise very comforting. I spend much of my free time organizing drawers or my closet or color-coordinating labels in my sketchbook. What's really funny is that because my mom is the most organized person on the face of the earth, I spent most of my life thinking I was a messy, laid back, non-compulsive person because I had her as my example of what it meant to be the opposite. In Mozambique, I started to get a hint at my true colors when, under extreme stress in Chimoio, my default reaction would be to fold and organize my clothes and rearrange things in the pantry according to size and shape. But it took me going to art school to really understand what a compulsive, organized person I really am. :)
• I'm also increasingly aware of how hard it is for me to be on vacation and relax. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love to do nothing. Few things top a lazy weekend at home with cats and trash tv and sunbathing. But something happens when I'm officially on break. It's like a switch flips and I become a basket case. Having all that free time freaks me out. I don't know what to do with myself, yet I become hyper-aware of all the pending items on my to-do list, of my unmet goals, of the 1,001 things I should or could be doing. I never feel productive enough, yet often am so tired and in desperate need of a break that I can't bring myself to get things done. I think I've become used to the crazy rhythm of school. Life seems normal and I am happy when I have too much on my plate, it seems. Something about the constant get-up-and-go is better than the inertia that results when I step off the wild ride. Go figure...
• 2011 was a tough year in that I've never worked so hard, but things are starting to come together. What makes it possible is that I have an amazing support base. Rico is, in a word, amazing. I often joke that I hit the husband lottery. My core family is loving and encouraging and kind. The cats are fat and happy. I have good friends. I am in better shape than I've ever been in my entire life. I feel determined, aware of what I want to accomplish going forward, content to work myself to near exhaustion during this period of apprenticeship.

Cats, Champagne, Family, and Friends

In a nutshell, these are my wishes for 2012. May it be a year full of loved ones, furry ones, and fun times.

Oh, and I resolve to run a half marathon. :) May the running trend continue strong.

Casa Cali View, Summer's Day and Winter's Night, 2011

Mantras for the Semester

"Perfect is the enemy of good (enough)."

"Rome wasn't built in a day."

There's so much to consider in building a creative business. First, obviously, you must have a well-designed, beautifully made, compelling product. Creating amazing jewelry has been the focus of most of my efforts over the past two years, as without the good pieces it makes no sense to invest in growing the business. However, I'm at a point where my business side needs to make a leap forward. Not the numbers and accounting, although that could use some attention too. Rather I'm talking packaging, website content and layout, product tags, letterhead, logo, business cards, etc. Essentially the whole branding and marketing effort that will really send a professional, polished image to back up my jewelry.

It's so frustrating sometimes because there are so many details and I can't always tackle them all. Sometimes my packaging is not ideal to the shape of a piece, or a label is hand-written instead of stamped, or my website still carries my old logo and branding because I wasn't able to make the change to the new site in time for the holidays. There's just so much to think about and be on top of...

That's when I try to remind myself of the two sayings at the top of this post. Something is better than nothing, always. Baby steps to your goal. Or as they would say in Mozambique, "pouco-pouco."

83 Down, 2 to Go

This seventeen-week semester is nearly finished. Part of me is extremely grateful for the upcoming break, which I clearly need to maintain my sanity and be ready for another stretch of craziness come January. But another part of me is sad, depressed even. I love being in school and it's so difficult to go from 1,000 miles per hour to essentially zero overnight (at least that's how it feels, even though I'm still super busy with holiday orders).

Also, my friendships have really consolidated this semester and the idea of not being around my girls leaves me feeling a bit empty (most people go back "home" for the holidays, not that many of us are locally based). I am so lucky to be in the metals program with this particular group of people. It took me nearly two years to feel like I've made friends, but now that I have, I can't imagine school without them. We support each other through crises, work out together on a regular basis, pull all-nighters together in studio, make runs for bubble tea (my new favorite studio snack). My friends are a big part of what motivates me throughout the semester, and I will seriously miss them over the next month.

I'm trying to avoid the serious blues this break, however. Strategies include throwing a "come over and do nothing" relax party on Saturday, running regularly with H., enjoying time with family, mini trips to Tahoe and Napa, and staying busy with a couple of jewelry commissions. I'm also itching to troll the local flea markets and salvage yards for storage cabinets, old tools, display cases, and whatever else catches my eye for the studio. Keeping busy is the ticket, for sure.

Light in Sight

One more jewelry project, my chromophobia final, and a paper on a Tibetan Buddhist manuscript are between me and a much-needed break. I'm really burned out (and consequently not thaaaaat stressed) and it's been hard to get motivated to turn out these last projects. I'm close, though, and knowing that gives me an extra boost.

This semester I've prioritized exercise equally with my schoolwork. I don't regret it one bit. I *do* have time to keep working out, and it's not like I have to shuffle my schedule to do it. Honestly I waste a ton of time in my day-to-day, and that hour-and-a-half it takes to start and finish a workout are imperceptibly sucked by internet, chatting, spacing out, doing non-priority chores, etc. When I do exercise, I get the feeling my time is more precious (i.e. I've spent it consciously) and therefore I'm more productive, more efficient, and better at prioritizing the things on my to-do list. Win, win really. I stay fit and manage my stress, and am also faster and more focused at my work.

So why is this so hard to remember *before* a workout, when I will make 1,001 excuses as to why I should stay in studio or simply watch some trash on tv?

Anyhow, I've been much better about the workouts this semester and I feel good. Tonight, for example, I'm going to dance at Hipline for an hour. In semesters past, I'd have cancelled this refundable class in a heartbeat. Not now, though. It will be the highlight of my day.

The Traveler Necklaces

Each necklace in the 15-piece Traveler series has the name of a different city worldwide that inspired the color palette. Adding to the traveler vibe, the trade beads used in the design are hundreds of years old and have crossed the globe several times over, starting in Venice or Bohemia where they were made, carried to Africa by the Portuguese, washed up on the shores of Ilha de Moçambique after shipwrecks, and finally brought here to San Francisco in my luggage.

Where will their next stop be?

(The Helsinki Traveler Necklace and the other Travelers are available at www.alexandraamaro.com)

Apprenticeship

There is a really difficult mind-space for people that hold themselves to high standards when, while learning a new trade or skill, they realize what the best work looks like (i.e. what they desire to make/do) but are unable to perform at that level yet. Often the gap is because these people are still learners, operating in an area where true mastery requires years and years of experience. For some reason, though, it is hard to accept that apprenticeship equals failure on an intrinsic level, that if we don't make bad work there is no way to learn how to make good work.

I know this. I can even write about this. But it is SO HARD to embody it, to release the pressure I self-impose to knock it out of the park with every project that comes along. I want all of my work to be amazing, not necessarily for the praise of others (although this is definitely nice, however another minefield in and of itself) but because I am used to being at the top of whatever I'm doing. I know I'm capable of doing impeccable work, and it's hard to accept that it's okay if I can't right now, for whatever reason, in whatever capacity.

I think people doing jewelry or metalsmithing at a high level are particularly prone to this issue. Our field is all about perfection, precision, doing it right the first time because often that's the only option lest you go back to square one with a particular piece. Our eyes are meticulous. We see all of the flaws. Making can be maddening. We get so invested in our work, put in so many hours... It becomes especially hard to look at a piece after blood and sweat and tears (literally. really. i cry nearly every week and can't feel the tips of my fingers) when you know certain things should have been done differently and/or better.

I need to remember - I think all of us in the progam could stand to remember - that other people don't see jewelry through the same discriminating eyes as we do. Other people see the beauty, the creativity, the materials. Not that this is license to do shoddy work, but to remember on those pre-critique mornings that someone out there will think this is the best. piece. ever. made.

A Good Feeling

In some ways I feel like this song is getting me through the semester. Just when I'm feeling really down, I'll hear this somewhere. In my car at full volume is the best, but Hipline's shimmy pop class is a close second (Hipline is this amazing dance studio in Berkeley that I've been going to with some of the jewelry girls from school. They have glow sticks and a disco ball during the last class on Thursdays, not to mention super dim lighting (the best idea e.v.e.r. for club-style dance classes that happen in a gym space during daylight hours.))

So Flo Rida's song literally helped me turn around a tearful crisis in the making last week. I was so stressed from my production jewelry class (I'm was working on the 5-alike pendants) that I could tell I was going to cry during critique. Not that my pieces had failed or anything, it had just been an extraordinarily long, hard road and I was at my limit. On my way to school the tears started to fall and then the song came on. It was like magic.

I wonder what my song for next semester will be (they seem to only be magic for a few months at a time).

For now, at least, it seems I know my winter break song. My friend Jimmy shared this with me the other day and I am obsessed.

For the record, summer's song was:

Spring semester's song was:

Carla Makes Jewelry in Maputo

I am so proud of my first jewelry student, Carla, who continues to make beautiful designs with wire and semi-precious stones in Maputo. I fondly remember our one-on-one jewelry lessons, starting with the very basics of how to make a wire loop and progressing through pricing and selling one's work.

Here is a gallery of her work. If you're in Moz and are interested in Carla's work, please look her up! She sometimes participates in events like the International School-sponsored holiday fairs, so perhaps you've already seen her jewelry somewhere.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/quimera_designs/

Five Identical Madness

I mentioned in a previous post, I believe, that I am working on a project for my Production Jewelry class where we have to make five identical pieces. We are allowed to vary one or two design details, and we must incorporate a "foreign" object, e.g. a stone, a found object, a commercial clasp, etc. Each one of my pendants will have a different color scheme/assortment of gemstones and a different patina on the silver.

Here is a (poor quality) photo of one of the pieces I am making. I'm really excited about the design, but the process and the deadline have my stomach flipping and my shoulders in knots thanks to record levels of stress. I don't even want to catalog all of the bumps along the road, but suffice to say I'm past-due with the project and have another marathon night (at minimum) ahead of me. I've been working SO HARD for the last two weeks. It's somewhat disheartening to work at 110% effort and realize that it's not quite enough.

Cue the lesson in perfectionism and remembering why I'm really in school (it's not for the grades, but I admit it's hard to let go of that, too).

I think I'll feel better once I get the rest of my stone setting finished. I have two pendants to go, and the road ahead seems never-ending...

Your Responses = My Next Jewelry Project

Hello friends,

For our next project at school we have to interview people and then design a piece of jewelry or a sculpture based on the responses.

The question is: If you could change one thing about your personality, what would it be?

Feel free to answer in the comments. Thanks in advance for your help!

After Earthquakes

We've had a series of moderate earthquakes here in the Bay Area lately. Nothing big, really, especially for people who are from quake territory, but big enough to frighten me for sure. Part of the issue is that most of the recent earthquakes have been centered just a mile or two from school, so the shaking feels especially strong.

It's terrifying during the shaking, but the disorientation and feeling of "seasickness" that I get afterwards is nearly as bad. It's similar to the feeling you get after a day spent boating, when you step back on dry land but still feel as if you're on the waves. I can feel false quakes for days after the real thing, and the fact that there really *are* aftershocks makes it even worse. I often don't know whether my mind and body are playing tricks on me, or if its honest-to-god shaking. Sometimes I have to look around the room at other people's faces to determine if something is happening or not.

This quake-sick feeling is so bizarre, by far the closest I've ever come to wondering if I'm going a little crazy. I decided to try and capture it in a panting for my Chromophobia class, as we're putting on an exposition this week about phobias. The title of the show is "Horror vacui", which means fear of empty space (and is just a very cool-sounding phrase). I wanted the painting to be really busy and visually disorienting to look at.

The end look is definitely different from what I'd originally envisioned, but I am okay with letting the process dictate the result. Here's a bit of the evolution. I think I'm one layer away from being finished, maybe two.

("Seismic", acrylic on canvas, 36x36")







(sorry for the poor image quality. I'm content remembering to take *any* process photos of my art these days.)

Silicone Molds, Gemstones and Running

Otherwise known as what's on my mind these days.

For my production jewelry class our assignment right now is to make five identical pieces. The idea is for us to utilize molds, jigs and other clever tools and strategies to make our work more efficient.

Although I like production jewelry and plan to do limited production lines once I'm out of school, it's hard to think in production terms. We are so schooled to make elaborate, conceptual, insanely labor-intensive, one-of-a-kind pieces that it's really a challenge to move away from that mindset and design jewelry that is creative and appealing, yet cost- and time-efficient and can be easily produced in multiples. At least its hard for me. :)

I am making a series of bejeweled silver pendants for the five-alike project. In order to be clever and efficient as the class requires, I'm casting the main component of the pendant. Fantastic, except I don't know how to cast. Rather, I'm learning in record speed how to cast (one week to be precise). This evening I poured my very first silicone RTV mold. Tomorrow I will cut it in two pieces and do a wax injection so that I can, on Monday, actually cast my piece. It seems complicated even though I've been told many times that casting is a simple process. It makes me anxious to have my project depend on a process I'm totally unfamiliar with, but I suppose this is good practice for uncomfortable situations I'm certain to encounter down the line.

I went for a short run this morning, which felt really good. I've not been able to run as frequently now that the semester is in session and I miss it terribly. Over the summer my friend H. and I were running five times a week. Now I'm getting in two runs per week, and it's rare for them to be over five miles. Rico and I are signed up to run another 10k on Saturday and I'm trying to align my expectations with my somewhat diminished physical abilities. I'd like to run the whole race really fast and feel fantastic, but I know I'll just have to go through at a slow and steady pace and be okay with the fact that I may just have to walk a bit.

In other news, I register for Spring 2012 classes on Monday. I'm taking Jewelry 3B (the next class in the series, one in which we do one-week projects all semester), Casting (ha, ha), Lost and Found (creating jewelry and other works that incorporate found objects), and a textiles class called Patterns and Pixels (creating patterns on the computer and then printing onto fabric).

I find registering for classes always gives me a little perk, which is especially welcome at this low-energy point of the semester. At a time when I so desperately need a break, it's funny that thinking about more school would get me excited. I guess this is a good sign, no?

Ali Lately

One of my favorite chill-out-post-studio-madness activities is to watch Chelsea Lately. I am sort of surprised I like her program (and her!) so much, but I do. Why fight it? I've long accepted that I like trash tv, so in comparison to something like Cheaters or Coco Loves Ice, I suppose Chelsea Lately is highbrow...

Anyhow, it is the perfect thing for relaxing after a crazy week, which this one was without a doubt. I had late nights in the studio at school (3:30 and 4:00 AM), late nights at my home studio (2:30 AM) and plenty of early mornings in the mix.

I got both of my projects done, which was a good feeling. One was a 5-piece suite for Production that was loosely based on vertebrae and done in silver with gold hinge pins (I made a bracelet, long earrings, a pendant necklace, a chunky ring, and stacked thin rings) and a personal identity piece for Jewelry 3A that involved a bejeweled floral/coin piece that fits into various objects. Hard to explain in a nutshell, but I'll post on it (and the production suite) once I get it back from my professor and have a chance to take photos.

There were several earthquakes last week. Two on Thursday that were the biggest I've felt since moving here (4.2 and 3.7, I believe, but these figures may have been modified by USGS). I distinctly felt rolling/shaking, which is different from the "a huge truck just hit the building" feel of the previous earthquakes I've experienced here. I actually got under my jeweler's bench at school for the second quake on Thursday. The epicenter was a mile away in Berkeley and that thing was scary. Jangled nerves, thankfully no damage. There have been several aftershocks, and I've felt all of them. I feel anxious, like I'm anticipating and can almost feel the next one before it actually happens. I guess the best way to describe it is that I feel sort of seasick, like when you get off a boat and can still feel the swaying long after you're on firm land.

I've been trying to counter all the stress with exercise, which is my go-to stress management solution. Running, cardio dance classes, personal training, and today I tried rock climbing for the first time with some girlfriends from school. We did bouldering at a rock gym in Oakland, and I can honestly say it was better than I'd anticipated. I am somewhat afraid of heights and don't enjoy climbing, but it was good to do a new activity and get out of my comfort zone for a while.

So that's what I've been up to lately. I'm really looking forward to getting a couple of days off during Thanksgiving. I'd like to sleep a lot, hang out with Rico and the cats, and do a whole lot of nothing. :)

30

I am turning thirty tomorrow.

Everyone is full of advice, ranging from how your thirties are the best years of your life, to how I should have babies soon because I'm getting old, to how I should really be using sunscreen daily because serious wrinkles are right around the corner.

I'm excited, not really feeling any of the crisis OH MY GOD I'M OLD stuff at all.

I am happily married and living in a house and community that I love. I am near family. I am in the best shape of my entire life, having become a Runner about a year ago. I am in art school perfecting my skills as a metalsmith. I'm a working jeweler. I have friends. I love our cats. I am happy and excited to be turning thirty, but not sappily idealistic about what the next decade might hold.

If anything, the one poignant lesson that I've become more aware of at this age is that we really don't have that much time. I can imagine that those of you reading this who are in your sixties are just shaking your heads, thinking Oh, she has no idea. But I do have an idea, if only a small one.

In my twenties and teenage years, I was privileged to travel a lot. I always had the feeling that those places, those people I connected with on my travels would be part of my life again. I went to Roraima and felt like it was no big deal to go back. I went to Greece and had no doubt I'd visit again. Same thing with Cuba, Zimbabwe, Vietnam, Argentina. It seemed so easy to just hop on a plane and go. Time seemed infinite, and travel was one of a select few ways to use my resources.

I was sure I'd see them again, the people that touched my heart over the years. Hannah, Lambros, Gaby, Angel, the Yamamotos, Perry. The list expanded exponentially with living in Mozambique. I felt certain I'd reconnect at some point with all of these special people. Jenny, Kelly, Zahra, Anel, Claudia, Helen, Marcos, Bruno. There are too many to name, really, and now I wonder when, realistically, we'll ever cross paths again.

Time is short, energy fleeting, resources divided amongst many worthwhile dreams and goals (not to mention practical obligations). It is challenging at best to connect face-to-face with those we love. We are lucky to visit twice the places that make our hearts skip a beat. We are envious of those who do what they truly love because we recognize the risks that often go into those decisions.

We must make choices, many choices.

I hope that I choose wisely in the decade to come.