Thursday, 23 July 2015

I remember how to do that. . No problem. . . er. . .

The trouble with combining the desire to constantly experiment, with overconfidence in your own powers of recall is that you aren't aware you are doing it. . until said powers of recall are called upon and found wanting owing to the sheer amount of experimental data clogging up your brain. . .
I was running out of image trans tube beads, (I made a bunch a month or three ago and have used most of them in different necklace projects and such) and wanted to make some more anyway, so I got everything I needed ready and set to. Only to find myself hitting issues I must have solved before, but had forgotten I had ever come across.

Like how thick to make the base bead I wrap the raw image trans clay squares around. Which has a bearing on how thick the image trans square needs to be. If either or both are too thick then the image doesn't wrap the whole way round and you have a larger seam than you anticipated, and/or a gap that needs filling. Not to mention the issue of the image coming off on your fingers unless you are very careful.
Looking at the ones I made previously, it is obvious that I had got the whole thing sorted out. They look very neat, by my standards at least.

Previous, neat ones

The new ones came out a bit wonky and bit fat. Luckily I had intended to unleash my drastic antiquing/distressing technique on this batch all along , so the imperfections would probably work in my favour. As it turned out, after I had wielded the sandpaper, alcohol inks and ren wax, they looked pretty cool.

Recent wonky fat one

I had a few squares I didn't use to wrap round tube bead bases, so I added a polyclay square back to each for re enforcement purposes and distressed them up too to make groovy faux ancient 'tile' beads.

The image trans tubes and the tile beads looked quite good together so I made a couple of pendants out of the combination.

I shall keep on with the image trans tube making, as I want to get back to the non wonky form I showed previously. This time I shall remember what I did. Was that a hollow laugh I heard? Watch it!

I could write it all down, but I know I wouldn't ever look at my notes again if I did, even if I remembered where I wrote them down. I know myself enough to know my mind doesn't work that way.

Still, I dare say I'm not alone in not remembering how I did stuff. . . Or am I?

Jon x

Friday, 10 July 2015

Dummy adorned. . .

I've been feeling a touch discouraged of late. I haven't sold much in the last month or so, and haven't had much response from the World concerning my work. Which is not all that surprising as the World probably hasn't seen much of it anyway, me being a reluctant self publicist and all. But I have put it on Pinterest, and on FB from time to time, but obviously not with enough conviction and not often enough.
I have been making stuff still, but I find the downside of having had a good response in the past, is that when the good response isn't sustained, you miss it, which can detract from the enjoyment you get from the process of making stuff. Ironic really, as if you hadn't had the good response in the first place, you would probably have just chugged along, doing your own thing, not feeling particularly disappointed or particularly elated. . .
So I have the dilemma of wanting to make stuff, but wanting that little bit of affirmation on top. But feeling reluctant to make anything if it isn't going to be noticed and the affirmation not be forthcoming.

Fragile artist ego stuff I'm afraid. Get over yerself etc.

Anyway, each time I make and list a necklace, I drape it over this rather wonderful old, 1960s (?) black plastic 1/4 size approx, display bust my ex was going to throw out, but that I rescued. I have sold several necklaces over the months, but there are good few still on there.
I always thought it looked pretty cool but had never got round to photographing it, until now. I'm intending to use these images on my website, when I actually construct it, but you get to see them first, lucky you ;-)

Who's that old git with a camera?