Alas, the kiln gods did not smile on the bird rings. Last night when I finished the rings and then checked sizes, I decided to carve the shanks just a bit more to enlarge them. Bad idea. Three out of four opened up, and the fourth one has a tiny crack. So the flock going to Purdue is the same five from before.
So many people have asked about bronze bird rings that I broke down and carved another set last night.
Finished jewelry is beginning to emerge from the mess that is my worktable. This is the second aquamarine bracelet, which I like much better than the first I made. I tried something more akin to the concrete pendant stringing at first, incorporating some syringe painted charms, but it didn't lay smoothly on the wrist. So, it's time to rework that one. 
I adore this bracelet. It's just lovely, with chunky cut large aquamarines, smaller faceted aquamarine rondels (clear and cloudy), chalcedony rondelles, Bali silver nuggets and flowers, and a couple of Czech glass leaves that just seemed to fit. 
One of my keyhole, ball and slot, clasps, set with an aquamarine cab. The only drawback to these gorgeous stones is the expense. Do I really want to part with it or keep it for myself? I guess that will depend on whether the price seems reasonable to some prospective buyer, or not.
Back to the mess that is my space. When I am finished here, I need to rethink my work area. I space just for stringing is needed. Putting all these loose, round objects right in the middle of my metal clay space is a big mistake. How do I get back to carving bronze?
I'm buried under here, trying to finish up last minute projects. 
Here's a portion of my worktable, the scenic portion that caught my eye with it's gorgeous wash of aqua.
Silver nuggets, aquamarine, chalcedony, amazonite, silver charms, earring bezels, birds and more birds.
What's on your worktable? Feel free to zoom in on the scenic part.
They came through the kiln unscathed, that fearless flock of bronze bird rings.
Of course, there is always one that has to fly a different direction.
I hear that Bill Struve will introduce his new fast fire version of his bronze clay at the PMC Guild Conference next week. Thus, I'm trying to use up all my old clay, before I no longer want to work with it. Of course, I still have Hadar Jacobson's clay hanging out and some unopened Prometheus bronze clay and two types of copper clay I haven't touched, as well. 
Anyway, since I keep getting inquiries about the bronze bird rings, I carved up a set and popped them into the kiln just now. It's fun to see how they are all similar, yet unique. Offer up a few prayers to the kiln gods, if you are one the requesters, that they 1) sinter and 2) come out your size. I'll be taking them and the other recent one (which was Hadar's clay) to Purdue next week for my table at the Show and Sell.
The second pendant made from the over heavy earrings is finally finished, after two rounds of stringing. The first set of fossil coral ovals seemed too heavy, so I had to replace them with the smaller spheres. 
This is leftover etched copper with torch-fired enamel, set into a fine silver clay box, filled with butterscotch concrete. The stones are fossil coral, freshwater pearls, and Swarovski crystals. 
Whew! Now, are the cabochons I'm waiting for in my mailbox, I hope? I have some bracelet clasps here waiting.
I've been working on more torch-fired enamels and earrings to set them into.
Here's the first set. Hand-drawn black enamel on two layers of white, for a total of three torchings. I'm learning that I have to be careful, as the black enamel spreads when it stays hot too long.
The texture is a tear-away of a handwritten letter in French.
In the interest of using up more bits and pieces lying around, I set a plain dome of enameled copper into a silver ring. This piece is smaller than the previous enamel rings that had larger discs of copper etched with drawings of birds. BTW, it's size 7. 
The blue fading to green with speckles of white overlaying is just luscious. 
Of course, this got me to wanting to make more rings and torch more enamel. Wonder what else I have stashed?
We all have bits and pieces made for one purpose that pile up unused. Sometimes it pays to get those back out and reconsider them for a new project.
I have a nice stash of torch-fired enamels on etched copper that didn't fit into my silver clay rings. That was before I realized I needed to change the order of steps in my process to make things work out better. I dreamed of making them into earrings or a bracelet, but that would have been much easier if I'd drilled holes in them prior to the enamel application.
Last week when I made some marquis shaped earrings that came out big enough to stretch my lobes to my shoulders, I stared at those wondering what I could do with them. Then I dug out the enameled discs, which just happened to fit. Aha! How to mount them? Resin was a possibility, but I wanted to try out the concrete I'd learned in a class at Bead & Button with Robert Dancik. 
One thing led to the next. I needed to hang the new pendant. I auditioned my chains and was nonplussed. Then I remembered the olive green rhyolite beads I bought at B&B. Perfection. I wired those up and added some jump rings to connect everything. Then I needed a little something to fill the void of silver wire at each jumpring. I hobbled upstairs an extra time (in my one time per day world) to dig through my bead collection. Voila! The green pearls I HAD to buy in Kona, Hawaii, knowing that I'd need them somehow, someday, popped out of the box.
Too many hours later, a necklace was finished. Whew. Of course, there was originally a PAIR of earrings, so there's another sitting on the work table.
I've long admired the polymer clay and wire earring display stands that Celie Fago makes for her earrings. In class one time she said that she used to give one away with every pair of earrings sold. I wish the earrings I bought from her had come with one. There is one example in her website gallery, here.
I've been trying to come up with a design to make for myself that will coordinate with my work, and I decided that simple leaves would do. Mine aren't nearly as involved as Celie's, but they'll be original at least. I've learned a few things about designing and making earring displays. First, heavy black wire is available at the local hardware store for a song, as compared to the black coated craft wire, which is very expensive. The drawback to the black steel wire is that it is oiled to protect it from rusting, so it is messy to work with. I've chosen to cut the 16 gauge wire I bought with my second string wire cutters, as steel is tough. Black polymer clay can be bought in a big block at the craft store. Sorry about some of the blurry photos, but you'll get the idea.
I've been selling my work for a while now, here and there, but not with a great focus. Making things is something I do easily; selling them is NOT. 
One of the things I did at Bead & Button for the last several years, between taking classes and teaching classes, (and shopping, of course) was to observe those who sell. Of course, selling commodities like stone beads isn't quite what I'm watching.
I'm looking to see how the artists I admire present their work. What do they bring? What is the price range? What sells well? How do they display it? How do they change or not change things from year to year? How do they present themselves? How do they package the sold goods?
That final question was especially intriguing to me. I found that as an artist, I was captivated by clever, original packaging of a treasure I had purchased. The package itself became part of the art. So I began to look at packaging with that eye. How could I make my choice different than all the clever things I'd seen, consistent with my "look," easy to transport and use, and inexpensive? I've mentioned this before in blog posts, for over a year.
The standard cardboard jewelry box, lined with cotton, struck me as conventional and in need of personalization. I looked at higher end leatherette jewelry boxes, like my friend Lorena Angulo uses, which are much nicer, but also more expensive and still in need of personalization. The clear plastic pillow boxes, stuffed with tissue and a card, that Gail Crossman Moore uses seemed like a cleaver solution, but I didn't want to blatantly copy. Kristina Logan's plastic bag tucked into a matchbook folded glossy printed paper was especially original (see it here). Jennifer Geldard's plain paper bag with paper attachments such as stamps joined with a fancy staple seemed simple but very effective.
How to come up with something interesting, but different than what my favorites were doing? I pored over packaging websites, looking at boxes, bags, and other containers. The tipping point came recently when I printed the mini-Moo cards to attach as price tags to jewelry. Suddenly I knew I wanted to attach those to the box or bag. I finally selected a tab-top favor box in black to show off the cards. Then I raided my collection for white maribou feathers to add an extra bit to the finished look. I haven't looked at the fancy staples yet, but my regular stapler does the trick.
Voila! A tiny treasure, waiting for opening. Don't you want to see what's inside?
During my recent class at Bead & Button, one of the students made an error in sizing for the two parts of a Garden Window pendant. It's an easy mistake to make. Concentrating on making the window opening the right size can lead to overlooking the outside dimensions of the front piece, which have to completely cover the box which holds the painted glass.
I suggested a quick addition to the student's window front to deal with the error: a rolled snake of clay all around the perimeter. It was such a nice addition that I had to make one myself once I got home. 
It just goes to reinforce the idea that mistakes are good. They are simply design opportunities. Truly, the measure of an artist is not what you can do the first time out, it's what you can fix.
This piece is a good example of how one thing leads to another. It's a Garden Window pendant, certainly. But it got a bezel set moonstone cabochon, since I've been incorporating a lot of those lately into earrings. And the shape came from the painted fabric and stitched metal ornament I made when visiting fiber friends and the birdhouse I designed in Kate McKinnon's workshop. It all works together to move us forward.
Today after I visited the surgeon, and got cleared to put full weight on the leg, I crutched myself over to the trauma hospital next door and got a CD full of the images of my broken body. Included are before and after X-rays of the leg and arm, as well as CT scans of my leg and head and the ultrasound run one night to see if I had a blood clot (negative).
side view
cross section
Time for project #3 for the Master Muse series. This round the challenge was to create a lid of metal clay and a coordinating box of any material. So far, Anne Mitchell and Patrik Kusek offered up clever boxes made entirely of metal clay. Barbara Becker Simon, being a lampwork artist as well as a metal clay artist, combined the two in her small vessel. I took a different approach. 
I wanted to combine my hand-painted enameled glass with silver, so I constructed the box from small glass tiles such as I use in my Garden Window class. I stopped at just the black enamel, as I love the crisp black and white silhouettes with the silver. Each side has a different scene, both lid and box. 
And the inside has one of my favorite quotes.
Check out the tutorial synopsis on Tonya Davidson's blog. Or visit my past tutorials on torch-fired enamel set in silver clay or an innovative clasp design. The latter is now available in the full bench format at Whole Lotta Whimsy.
Tomorrow I see the orthopedic surgeons for an update on my healing status. It will be thirteen weeks since I originally broke those bones. Thirteen weeks of wheelchairs, walkers and crutches. Thirteen weeks of learning to live without walking. Thirteen weeks of slow but steady progress, looking forward to the day I'll be able to resume my old way of life.
The reality of therapy is grueling: hours and hours per week of spinning on a stationary bike, pumping dumbbells, stretching therabands, picking up marbles with my toes, pushing a noodle to the bottom of the pool with a float-wrapped ankle, fast treading water, balancing on a small trampoline, doing bridges and crunches with a giant rubber ball tucked under my knees, one-(bad)-legged squats on a sliding board, and zapping my leg with electricity to make the muscles contract more. That's for partial weight bearing. In the past few weeks I've placed more and more weight onto the bad leg, practicing with my bathroom scales to see where the 50% of body weight point is. I almost look like I'm walking and just moving the crutches along with me, although my sore right hand protests that I'm still bearing more weight there than desired. And stairs give it all away, of course.
Tomorrow, if the X-rays show the bone to be healed enough, I'll get permission to transition to WBAT, weight bearing as tolerated. Two hours later, I'll walk in to see my therapists again, who will have dreamed up a whole new set of torture exercises for me. It's a scary proposition, to trust the leg to hold me, especially knowing that I broke it doing nothing more than walking on the sidewalk. Experience with the last weight-bearing transition leads me to think I'll be expected to get on that treadmill or elliptical trainer pretty quick.
As the load has gotten higher lately, pain during the workouts has become the new issue. The inner incision scar is the most common place to hurt, and I suspect that the underlying hardware is rubbing. Repetition seems to eventually diminish that pain, so either scar tissue is breaking loose, scar tissue is forming to cushion, or muscles and tendons are rebuilding strength and flexibility. I'm told that pain that goes away is nothing to worry about. The long term concern, of course, is osteoarthritis from damage to the cartilage. Force strong enough to splinter my bone into several pieces is bad for more delicate soft tissues. There's nothing much to do about that though, except take my supplements and send healing energy down to that knee every time I think of it.
Wish me luck tomorrow.
Fourth of July holiday beckons and I haven't progressed a lot on everything piled on my work table. I decided to target a bunch of enameled earrings, both because I can finally get out to the torch again and because those might be items of interest at Purdue during the upcoming PMC Guild Conference.
I signed up months ago for a "show and sell" table at the conference. Of course, there's not a lot to show or sell due to my distractions with healing. But, I did sit down and think hard about what people have seemed most interested in, and the enamel earrings rated fairly high. So now I see how economically, time wise, I can make them. Of course, I hate to just mass produce them, so they all have to be a bit different. New ideas keep popping. 
Amongst the new ideas, I want to turn more doodles into texture plates. Here's another. I kept this one very simple after I realized the previous intricate 3" diameter Zentangle wouldn't reduce down to a 1" charm very well. I keep playing with this one, trying out new things. 
The way I make these is a bit crazy. I start off doodling by hand, but then I scan them into Photoshop to clean up and try out variations. Here's the original, with a spiral belly on the bird that didn't quite work for me. 
And here's the latest iteration, with the sun changed to dark with texture. I like working on them on the computer, because nothing is lost. I always have the option to revert to the original.
The bronze clay bracelet parts came through the firing just fine, three cards thick and all. Even the slight carving lines didn't split open. It only took six iterations to figure out the wire lengths for linkages, with lots of picking up dropped bits with precarious one crutch positions. On the other hand, the hidden wire clasp worked great the first time. I'd really like to get more reproducibly nice balls on the bronze wire, but I haven't figured that out yet. Some balls are really dimpled.
The carved ring didn't shrink as much as I expected, since I forgot about the difference in shrinkage for Hadar's bronze versus Bill's. (This is Hadar's -- you could tell just by the color of the clay in the previous pictures.) 
As a treat, I bought myself a bunch of Zentangle books. Zentangle is a specific type of structured doodling which has suddenly become all the rage. I became aware of Zentangle several years ago, taking a bunch of cut paper squares with me on a vacation to facilitate beach relaxation. I couldn't stick with the format, but it was still fun to have that restricted space and a starting point.
Today I rewarded myself with some lazy time while the kiln cooked. I looked at three Zentangle books. The first two, Zentangle Basics and Zentangle 2, seem to be pretty basic, aimed at educators who want to incorporate doodling into their curriculum. It was interesting just to see what type of fill patterns were being used. The newest book, Totally Tangled, was a bit more intriguing. The author, Sandy Bartholomew, breaks away from the small square format and doodles everything. I found her blog, BEEZ in the Belfry, to be very fun. I am particularly taken with this apron.
So I drew a circle in pencil on one of my leftover paper squares, and thought about what I was supposed to do next. Of course, I couldn't follow the rules, so my usual bird and branch went into the circle. Then I worked on a fill pattern to use up some of the remaining white space. I liked it enough to scan it into Photoshop, clean up the image and save it for a future photopolymer plate or rubber stamp. A perfect project for a gray, rainy day!
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