When I was very young, my dad had brought home something to show me. It was a small, thin leatherette box. Inside was sectioned off. One section had a rough uncut stone and underneath, the same stone cut with facets. This box was like holding a treasure. I wanted to keep it. My dad explained to me, he had borrowed it just to show me.
100 years later I found an identical box at a garage sale. I still have it. Ok, I am not 100…I sure can feel like that at times.
Stones are in my blood…not gall stones, thank goodness. I finally tapped into one of my passions…in my fifties. Who cares. Better later then never, as they say. It’s true. I am still glad I am not like Grandma Moses….I don’t want to think about being that old….Not now.
Art has always been a part of me. Working with clay, paper, paint, etc. Many years ago I made dimensional art in paper. These were large pictures. I mostly did botanicals. I entered a juried show. I was taking my picture out of my car when I noticed a woman carrying a pastel. It was beautiful! All I could think was run, Allie run. Put the piece back in the car and go. What confidence I had!
I got up my nerve and brought my piece inside. It was picked to hang on the wall. I actually received a phone call asking me if it was for sale. I couldn’t part with it. I still have it. I was just a seedling back then. Now I’m a full grown plant. Now I have the confidence to show my work.
Yes, there are times when I would love to keep certain beads or something I have made for myself. I know what I am doing is for sale. This is not the time to be thinking of myself. I do have a romance going with beads. That’s the moral of my little story.