Another day, another opportunity to hammer metal. I’m on my second week of school and am trying to get this damned bowl raised! I’m supposed to have the shape raised and ready for planishing (a type of polishing with a hammer) by this weekend. Here’s a pic of how things are going so far. I have about another inch to raise and, at the rate I’m going, it’s going to take the rest of the week to accomplish this.
I’m so tired!
Encouraged by Suzanne, I took the plunge and ordered a rolling mill. I’ve put it off because I was being snobby about buying a really good one and they run about $1,200. I found a small one at Harbor Freight Tools and the cost with shipping was only around $200 so I figured it would be worth the investment. If it’s something I use all the time and need an upgrade in the future, I can invest in the Durston mill.
So, you’re probably wondering what in the world I would do with a rolling mill - besides smash metal. I can imprint patterns on metal and roll wire to different thicknesses. These are things that can’t be done with the equipment I have. I’m sure I’ll be discovering more in the coming months as I play with it and get to know it. Look for new, fun jewelry soon!
Sometimes I feel so white. I don’t come from an interesting cultural background and there’s no real ethnicity in my family. We’re white, plain and simple. Now, I did have a Dutch great-grandmother, and I’ve heard rumors of Indian and Scottish blood in my family, but I sometimes wish we actually celebrated our heritage. Case in point: last night I attended a girl party hosted by Yasmine who teaches my belly dancing classes. I arrived late, but just in time to see all the wonderful dancing demonstrations. Several advanced students performed and then special guest, Yolanda Lorge, did a traditional Flamenco dance. I was mesmerized. I swear, I’d almost give up belly dancing to do what she did last night. She danced to a selection from Carmen and it was so beautiful. I asked her afterwards if she taught dancing and she replied, “no.” She didn’t know of anyone in the area who taught it.
So I think it just might be my duty to research some of my family history and find something colorful and interesting to celebrate.
A friend wrote me about several inappropriate comments she overheard recently so I was thinking this week’s topic could revolve around that.
What’s the most inappropriate thing anyone has ever said to you or that you’ve overheard?
Mine involves people who ask me when I’m going to have children. When I tell them I’m not going to have them, they proceed to ask why. Tired of the discussion, I once told a woman we were unable to have them. She then asked which one of us was unable. Seriously!
Ever feel like the universe is shifting and you can’t hold on? That’s how I feel right now. It seems like people I care about are facing all sorts of things in their lives that they can’t control. One friend recently buried her 30 year-old son. Another (former) friend drove his business into the ground and hurt many people in the process. A call from a friend yesterday informed me that her family is facing cancer again. Her dad died from it just 18 months ago. Still another friend is battling work issues and is uncertain about her future income. Add to that, friends with marriage troubles and you can see how things are shifting.
Not all is bad. Things with Steve and I are great and I think it’s because we need to be the rocks my other friends lean on right now. Yes, I lost my job and that sucks, but I gained some sanity, I’m going back to school and I’m being forced to live more sensibly. Seriously, do I really need 50 bottles of nail polish? Well, sometimes, but you get my point.
To my friends who read this and possibly recognize yourself in this post, please know I care about you, I think of you often and I’m here for you. I might not have much, but I can make you look good while you’re dealing with all this other crap!
I’d probably hit myself in the head with it because I’m so tired. I have my first week of school under my belt (class meets Mon/Weds) and I’m exhausted. We’ve started off with raising and it’s physically taxing. I spent three hours in the studio yesterday hammering metal. The class is full with nine people so you can just imagine the racket caused by nine people all banging metal against metal at the same time but not with the same rhythm. I wear my earplugs to not only save my hearing, but also my sanity.
There is an upside to this. It’s a cool technique. Yes, it’s really tiring and yes, it takes forever to do, but it’s rewarding. How often do you see a flat sheet of metal become round and raised? I’m currently raising a 7″ disc to 4″ tall, 3″ wide. Plans right now are to cover the outside with cloisonne enamel, but we’ll see how ambitious I feel once I’m done raising and planishing (a technique of smoothing the finished surface) this thing. My thoughts on enameling it change daily. Plus, I have to make a stand for this thing once it’s finished. Part of the assignment is to either make a stand or lid or create surface designs with repousse or chasing. Isn’t it fun to know that reading my blog this semester will increase your vocabulary and knowledge of metalwork?
I need a massage. Really bad.
Every time I go to Wal-Mart I swear I will never return. Yet I always do. Tonight we needed some food basics but I also needed a padlock for my locker at school. I had gone to Target (Tar-Jay) earlier in the day and they were out of skim milk (seriously) and had a very small selection of locks. I was hoping for a cool one. So I dragged Steve to Wal-Mart thinking we could get the milk and lock in one trip. I should have known better. First, I couldn’t find any damned locks! What’s the deal with locks being so hard to find? I expected a selection of them with the school supplies (makes sense to me) but they were not to be found so I wandered over to the hardware section. I walked up and down every isle from the hunting section to automotive and couldn’t find anything that resembled a lock. I also couldn’t find a sales associate to save my life. When I finally found one, unpacking pillows in the housewares section, she was less then helpful. She pointed over to the direction of hardware and said, “they’d probably be over there.” I then asked if anyone was in the area as I had not been able to locate said locks and she said, “well, there should be someone over there.” Thanks. I found another elderly woman in a blue Wal-Mart smock helping a college-age man with some hardware. When I approached her about the locks, she stated that she normally didn’t work in this department. I was on fire by now. Then I saw them. The infamous locks. A tiny selection (I thought I was in a SUPER center) located along the back wall. I thanked her for her lack of help and stated that I had found the locks. She then found it necessary to follow me over there to make sure I got exactly what I needed. The answer was no, I didn’t get exactly what I needed (something cool) but these plain, boring Master locks would do. I just wanted the hell out of there. We got our milk, salad mix and some assorted school supplies and we were gone. This time I swear I will never return. Famous last words.
I have a good friend who lives outside Jefferson City with her husband and two kids. We don’t see each other or talk often, but every time we do, I’m reminded of how refreshingly funny she is. She called last weekend when I was in St. Louis and I finally got to catch up with her this past weekend. She’s been a stay at home mom for many years, but has recently gone back to work. She passionately told me about her new job and told me she’d found her calling. As a funeral director. Seriously. Here’s someone I’ve known for years who has been an EMT, bodybuilder, telemarketer, mother and wife and she’s now working towards being a funeral director. The conversation was fascinating and I realized that she’s exactly the kind of person who should be doing this. She’s sympathetic, understanding, kind, professional and passionate. Everyone, regardless of what they do, should feel this way about their work. She said it was something that always interested her so she met with a director at a local funeral home to get information. Two hours later, the man was so impressed by her desire and passion he hired her on the spot and told her he’d train her. Next up, she’s going to learn embalming.
I just love how versatile and interesting my friends are! How many people can say they have a friend in the funeral business? Or that they have a friend who’s a fabulous belly dancer? How about a friend who’s their mom’s age? Or one who’s 15 years younger? Interesting people make for an interesting life.
Here it is, the day before school and I’m already reading my Silversmithing book for class. All this talk of “smithing” makes me think of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow:
Under a spreading chestnut-tree The village smithy stands; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands.
His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate’er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.
Week in, week out, from morn till night, You can hear his bellows blow; You can hear him swing his heavy sledge, With measured beat and slow, Like a sexton ringing the village bell, When the evening sun is low.
And children coming home from school Look in at the open door; They love to see the flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar, And catch the burning sparks that fly Like chaff from a threshing-floor.
He goes on Sunday to the church, And sits among his boys; He hears the parson pray and preach, He hears his daughter’s voice, Singing in the village choir, And it makes his heart rejoice.
It sounds to him like her mother’s voice, Singing in Paradise! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes.
Toiling,—rejoicing,—sorrowing, Onward through life he goes; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close; Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night’s repose.
Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught! Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought.
School starts tomorrow and I always view it with mixed emotions. I’m excited to embark on a new adventure, but nervous about the experience. How will I do? Can I do the work? How will I manage my time? Will I be able to keep up with my regular production? You can see where I’m going. Steve calls it “swallowing the elephant.” It’s when I get all wound up about everything at once instead of taking it one piece at a time. At my core, I can be very lazy so the thought of putting effort into school sometimes feels exhausting. On the other end is the fact that I always learn something exciting I can incorporate into my jewelry. This will be my third metals class so the stakes (literally) will be raised. I’ll be exploring new techniques which I hope will lead to new works from the studio. Stay tuned for updates!
