I'm trying out a couple new techniques with my clay-working, including making Celtic knots, mold-making, and powdering black clay with silver dust to make a metallic pendant. The pendant came out pretty cool, but the mold part is getting annoying, and I need to make that before I can powder the pendant. I asked Hubby to stop by the store this evening on his way home and grab me some Sculpey Mold-Maker, which will supposedly capture the details a little better. Anyway, here are some preliminary pictures...
|Elidor pendant. Close enough? You be the judge. (It'll hopefully look cooler when I put on the powder and glaze it.)|
|The Elidor standard.|
|Celtic knot pendants ( Probably one of my favorite types of designs.): 3" and 1.5", respectively. Incidentally I was going for kind of a greenish marble look, but it turned out looking more like wood grain, but cool anyway. Still need to be glazed.|
I went to karate last night and I was surprised at how I'm suddenly so much more comfortable running. Not only has my asthma lessened considerably, but I think the extra weight I lost has made it easier to keep going, endurance wise. Of course, my pride at tht accomplishment was lessened somewhat by the fact that I'm a total dweeb with the new green belt techniques I learned. My “scissorhand technique” leaves something wanting. Le sigh...
I keep checking stats: on my blog and on my new shop. I know this is a bad habit to get into. I should just make and write what I'm called to do and let it speak for itself. But there's just something about that "Stats" button that tempts me every time I log in, and suddenly I just need to know how many people viewed my post or looked at my jewelry, if I have any new comments, or if anyone favorited any of my pieces. And every single time I see the results-- it doesn't matter what the numbers look like-- I'm disappointed. I always hope it'll be more. Isn't that awful? I hesitate to even think how many times a day at this point that I am checking to see who read, viewed, or “liked” something I've put up. It makes me wonder how much less stressed I'd be if I just went at my own pace and ignored what others thought of my stuff? Hmm... perhaps this is a fast in the making? How far away is Lent again?
I had a great chat with my dad last night. I was admitting to him how bad I feel that sometimes, when Baby is being funny and cute, all I can feel is annoyance. Of course, it's worse at a certain time of month (that would be now), but it does happen frequently. Anyway, he pointed out that my mom used to feel the same way when she snapped at me when I was a kid, and it just kinda hit me: this sudden feeling of understanding toward my own mom. Yeah, your kids are cute, and you love them more than life itself, but sometimes they are just plain annoying! Even when they're being cute and funny and just wanting to make you smile, if you are trying to get something else done and they are all up in your business trying to get your attention, that charming thing they're doing can just make you want to scream. I've been feeling that way with poor Baby lately, as I'm trying to set up shop and stock new items. In fact, yesterday, I had to leave the room several times, or hold her at arm's length and count to ten. I guess it's just a sort of natural reaction to having no personal space whatsoever for extended periods of time, too. Plus we spent the whole weekend all together in the RV, and I was pretty much always the “on-duty” parent since Hubby ended up having to help his dad fix the air conditioning or fridge all weekend. So before last night's class I hadn't had a “break” from Baby in almost a week. But still: I hate feeling angry at my kid for something I shouldn't feel angry about. It gives me mommy-guilt, and no mom needs more of that. But I guess I had never made that mental connection before, so when my memories of my mom's less-than-chipper moments from my childhood suddenly clicked into place in that context, I just suddenly felt so bad, and so compassionate toward her. Because, lets face it: I was annoying. That goes without saying. I probably still am!
|Hubby and Dad-in-Law fixing our stubborn A/C in the 100+ degree heat. Poor guys...|
So anyway, if you're reading this, Mama, know that I love you, I understand, and thank you for not beating me! And thank you, Daddy, for being understanding and helping me to be compassionate!
And that's about all I have to say. Now to find a recipe for the chicken breasts I put out for dinner that looks good. Hmm...