my other hobby.

Sometimes photographing jewelry can be boring.  Sometimes you need props.  And sometimes I have nothing better to do with my time than to decoupage a styrofoam mannequin while taking hundreds of pictures of the process.  And then I can make little movies like this one for your viewing pleasure!

adventures in car buying.

So this post has pretty much nothing to do with jewelry.  But it has everything to do with what has consumed my life for the entire month of June and most of July – buying a car.  If you follow my life at all then you know that I left San Francisco at the end of May and landed on the other side of the bridge in Berkeley without a car.  My brother was kind enough to let me use his car while I stayed with him and I had a lot of fun driving it.  I learned that there’s a stretch of 880 that smells like freshly baked bread all the time since the driver’s side window doesn’t roll up and another window in the back is punched out.  I made a game out of avoiding potholes as one of the wheels is bent but he couldn’t remember which one, just that it was on the right side.  I never worried about walking around the car to load groceries in the backseat because the passenger side door didn’t open.  I took my time pulling the gear shifter into drive since the knob had a tendency to come off in your hand if much force was used and I made sure to make my way over to the right lane any time I encountered a slight incline as the car quickly lost power trying to climb over anything larger than a speed bump.  Oh, and then there was the day I flipped on the windshield wipers and one of the blades flew off.  Yep, it was a pretty sweet ride.  But with plans to relocate to LA, I needed my own vehicle.  And after losing my job and coming to terms with moving back to Sacramento, I needed a car.  Like, quick. 

Have you ever gone through the car buying experience before?  Because I never have.  Who knew that looking for cars was like having a full time job?  Mornings were spent combing through ads on craigslist.org, autotrader.com, and cars.com, creating a list of potential cars within my budget (a measly $5000), and researching said cars via kbb.com and Edmunds.com to find retail value on vehicles in good condition vs. excellent condition vs. private party vs. dealer.  I’m tired just thinking about it.

And then the exciting part – test drives and discovering how chauvinistic car culture still is.  There were the greasy looking dudes in gold chains at the mom n’ pop lots who informed me with great earnest that “these cars have their own market value” and refused to negotiate price.  Riiight, but who really pays sticker price and I’m not in the habit of paying more than what something’s worth.  Are you?  Then there was the guy at Carmax who laughed at me and asked if my budget was in American dollars.  Hey, eff you, buddy.  And I will never be returning to a Carmax.  Ever.  Again.  And then there was the kid who tried to negotiate a date into the selling price.  Quick tip on that one – if you’re going to try to ask someone out who’s interested in buying your car, wait until the sale is over or lower your price to what they’re willing to pay.  Just sayin’. 

One morning, I stumbled across an ad for a Volkswagen Golf at a Nissan dealership in Dublin, so I hopped into Trevor’s Honda and drove out there.  After the test drive (and the hour wait beforehand for it to finish inspection), I was pretty much sold on the car.  A couple days later, my mom and I head out to the dealership and after another quick test drive, we went inside to talk numbers.  Here is where we encounter Chris – the epitome of a car salesman without looking the part.  He sat us in his office, brought us some water, and then promptly disappeared.  I sat patiently waiting; my mom fidgeted in her seat, constantly craning her neck to find Chris, getting more and more volatile as time passed.  Chris came in a few times to check on us, “Just a few more minutes.  Be right back,” he’d say and then leave.  “What the fuck are we waiting for?” my mom said.  “He’s just playing games with us.  He’s trying to gain all the power.  We shouldn’t have taken the water.  We should have asked why he was offering it to us, should’ve said, ‘Why? Are we going to be here long?’  Oh, I’m so pissed.”  And after 20 minutes of this, Chris finally comes back in his office.  He sits down at the desk and asks a couple questions, entering the data into the computer.  “Okay,” he says, “the final number is going to be - ”  

“Wait a minute,” my mom interjects.  “Aren’t we even going to negotiate price?"  Uh-oh, this isn’t good.  This is about to get ugly.  Have you ever seen that one movie with that one scene where the character goes ballistic and flips over a table or some other piece of furniture and then continues to destroy everything within sight?  Yeah?  Well, it wasn’t quite that bad but there was a lot of “this is bullshit” and “that’s not true” and “she can’t afford that” and my mom was up and out of the office, out of the dealership, and nearly to the car by the time I could get out of my chair.  Chris stood behind the desk, looking a bit stunned.  It all happened so quickly, a matter of moments and there is never enough time to diffuse the bomb before it explodes.  I look over at him as I’m walking out of the office, unsure of the proper goodbye in this situation so I just say, “Thanks for the help, enjoy your day,” and run after my mom.

I drove back to my brother’s that night, feeling a little discouraged.  Nothing is going my way – dealerships hire dickheads, private parties try to scam dates, cars that are reasonably priced are snapped up in an instant, and I can’t apply for a loan due to my unemployed status.  The whole researching cars and looking for a fair price has become a chore, no longer fun and exciting, just time consuming and frustrating.  As a last ditch effort, I took another quick look on craigslist before bed and there it is – the perfect ad.  An ‘01 Golf with 125k miles, automatic, in silver with black interior.  Everything else – the sunroof, heated seats, 6 disc cd changer – are just icing on the cake at this point.  I immediately reply to the ad and the next morning, I have a response.  I drive out to Petaluma, test drive the car and couldn’t be happier.  Besides running smoothly and feeling immediately at home in it, the car is cosmetically clean – no visible dents or scratches, no stains or rips to the interior.  And it’s within my budget - $4200.  This.  Is.  My.  Car.   

The rest is pretty boring – the next morning I make a three hour trek via BART, Muni, and Golden Gate Transit out to Petaluma.  We chat briefly and whatdayaknow?  She also designs jewelry!  She can be found here and is a member of the Petaluma Craft Mafia.

And hey, look at that…I did manage to incorporate jewelry into this post after all!

***Just something I realized after posting this - after all my dealings with car sellers, the one that had the fairest price, was the most upfront, had the most well maintained vehicle, and ultimately the one I purchased the car from was a woman.  Food for thought, you know?***

 

practice.

 I’ve been trying to be diligent about this, I really have.  But sometimes life gets in the way.  If you follow astrology, blame it on Saturn’s return.  If you don’t, then let’s just say:  when it rains, it pours.  A relationship ended, a home was vacated, and a position was terminated – that would be my spring in a nutshell.  And as my once uneventful life became full of unknowns, inspiration and motivation dwindled.  Trying to be productive, I signed up for a couple classes to focus on my craft and the instructor was adamant about practice.  Practice, practice, practice.  Practice everyday.  Make ten simple loops and ten wrapped loops a day.  Maybe you finish a piece, maybe you don’t.  The intention is not to “make” something but to hone your craft and practice as any skill can be lost if not used.  It always sounds like a good idea, practice.  And I thought about it.  A lot.  But never got around to it.  There’s always something else to do, like feed the cat or empty his litter box or make dinner or watch TV or stare at the ceiling and try to figure out what I’m doing with my life.  I found myself on BART one day, feeling listless and defeated, when this kid sat down next to me with a Rubik’s Cube. 

He fiddled with the cube from the Montgomery station in SF, under the bay, through the transfer in Oakland, all the way to his stop at the Downtown Berkeley station.  I was fixated by his skill level as I watched him solve the cube over and over, one handed and under a minute each time, during our trek to the East Bay.  We got to talking – he’s an early twenty-something originally from Southern California who moved to Berkeley for school and recently graduated from a graduate program in Mechanical Engineering.  Fitting, I thought.  He picked up the Rubik’s Cube around the age of 12 and by 14 he was competing in contests.  “There’s a method,” he told me. “But you have to practice.  If you don’t practice, you forget.  And you get slow.”  We got off BART and walked a ways together, him still solving the puzzle over and over with one hand.  We parted ways and when I got home I fed the cat, cleaned his litter box, made dinner, turned on the TV and sat down with some beads and wire.  Ten simple loops, ten wrapped loops.  All it takes is a little practice.

lately.

Hey, was that a tumbleweed that just passed by?  My bad.  Here, let me dust some of those cobwebs out of the way.  There, that's better.  So it's been about two months since my last post.  Yeah, I know!  I'm sure you've all been waiting in anticipation, perched on the edge of your seat, biting your nails, wondering and waiting, waiting and wondering, "what has this girl been up to?  where has she disappeared to?"  Right?  Right?!  Okay, maybe not, but I am definitely looong over due for an update, so I'll give you a quick rundown:
February.
First weekend is Ryan's dad's birthday, the next weekend is my birthday, and then it's Valentine's Day, and Valentine's Day weekend at work is much like Christmas only crammed into a week instead of three, and then there's a show at the GAMH, and there's only 28 days in the month, anyway, so it kind of got away from me.  I did, however, manage to take photos of jewelry with the makeshift light-box and upload/list those items on etsy.  It's looking more cohesive - I think they call that branding.  Or something.  Oh, and I sent out the application for the Pink Parlour Festival.
March.
Everyone is leaving me.  Alice goes to Seattle, Zoe leaves for Mexico, Ryan is off to Texas.  I send out another application to the festival as the first one was never received and wait.  Time is becoming an issue, so I start talking myself out of the festival, as I'm prone to do, when I receive the acceptance email.  A little shocked and overwhelmed, I quickly change my tune and decide to go for it.  Later that week, Japan is rocked by a massive earthquake and tsunami.  Total devastation.  The event touches me and I'm moved to do something (you'll read about that later).  I decide to make simple wish bracelets and donate all the proceeds to Japan Earthquake and Tsunami Animal Rescue and Support after watching this video.  I list the bracelets on etsy, and the next morning, they've sold out. !!!  I list another 10, they sell out and I have over 15 inquiries for more bracelets.  Holy crap.  What did I just do to myself?  I eat, sleep, breathe jewelry for the next couple weeks.  Then the festival is here - drive down to LA Saturday, set up Sunday, drive back Monday, back to work on Tuesday.  And now the month is pretty much over and I can breathe again.

So there's the recap of the last couple months; some of the above mentioned events will be elaborated upon in future posts.  I'm sure you're all dying to here about it.

presentation, demonstration.

It's been said that the best way to advertise your product is to wear it.  I wholeheartedly agree with this, yet rarely ever do it.  Part of the problem is that I'm kind of a lazy - my hair is usually pulled back in a ponytail, I rarely wear makeup even though I love it, my nail polish is almost always chipped, and I can get away with wearing hoodies and yoga pants to work.  But I'm working on that for 2011. 

The other part of the problem is that I don't have somewhere that I can store my designs and easily access it.  It's in a bag in a box in a cupboard in the kitchen and when I only give myself ten minutes to get ready and out the door for work (I know, I'm working on this), the last thing I have time for is searching for a pair of earrings hidden in a cupboard in a bag in a box in the kitchen.  But I also know firsthand that when I wear my stuff, I usually get asked about it.

So, in an attempt to solve this dilemma, I spent the better part of yesterday constructing a display.  It's nothing more than a cardboard box covered in pretty paper and cut up window screens, but it serves its purpose.  It seemed like a pretty simple project, I figured I'd be done in a couple hours.  I really wasn't expecting to spend the whole day on it.  What happened?  Well, first I ran out of paper.  Then I ran out of glue.  Then it was lunch time so Ryan and I went out for a couple slices of pizza, more paper, some coffee, and glue.  We got pizza, Paper Source was out of my original paper so we got coffee, then I decided to just start the box over with a new paper, and totally forgot to buy glue.  Thankfully, Ryan refuses to throw out any of his old art supplies from college and I found a very old but still useable glue stick and production proceeded rather smoothly.  Then I had to cut up the screen.  With this guy around. 

He's pretty much like:  "Oh, an empty box!  Better sit in that.  Look at this pretty paper!  I should make sure it's secure by scratching at it.  Hey, what's this mesh looking stuff?  I better inspect it by chewing on it.  Oh look!  It comes apart!  I should grab one of these strands off the table with my teeth and run out of the kitchen.  Oh, are we playing chase now?  Yay!  Choking hazard, what's that?  Ooh look!  Small pieces of black wire.  You don't seem to be using it right now, so I'll knock it off the table and bat it around the kitchen floor.  Then chew on it some.  Why do you keep yelling about choking hazards?  Hey, I was playing with that!  Fine, I'll just wait until you aren't paying attention and bat that piece of black wire off the table.  What?  You've got like 10 pieces, I think you can share.  Oh, Ryan's putting food in my dish, nomnomnomnomnomnomnom..." 

I probably spent about as much time chasing after Dexter and pulling wire and bits of screen out of his mouth as I did constructing the display.  But I'm not gonna lie - he does look really cute sitting in the box.  Anyway, by the time I got the back panel of screen and one side panel secured, I was over it.  I hadn't eaten, I was feeling shaky and I really needed a break so I put everything away and maybe I'll finish the last side panel today.  Or I'll edit and post new pictures and listings on Etsy since the light box experiment was a success.  In any case, the display works as is and this weekend is proving to be rather productive for Scarlet & Madrone.

custom.

It's a typical Thursday night - dinner's almost ready, the cat's been fed, and Ryan just walked through the door.  We're setting the table and just about to sit down to eat.
"I read your post today," he says.
"Oh yeah?"  I know he reads them, but he doesn't usually comment on them unless I ask about it.  "What'd you think?"
"Were you in a bad mood last night?" he asks.
"No, not at all.  Why?"
"It's pretty bleak," he says.
"Really?"  I'm kind of shocked.  "But is it good?"
"Well, it's kind of dark.  You talk about death."
"Yeah, but death is a part of life," I say.  "But is it well-written?"
"I'm not really sure if talking about death is a good way to sell jewelry.  And you're kind of doom and gloom about custom designs.  You don't even mention that those pieces were well received."
"Yes, but is it well-written?"  So I fixate. 
And Ryan sighs.
"Yes.  It's well-written," he says before stuffing a forkful of pasta in his mouth.

Even a well-written post can miss it's mark as the previous one has so obviously done.  Yes, it was intended to be dark but with a sense of humor.  And Ryan is right - I really should have focused more on how well those two custom pieces turned out as opposed to being all doom and gloom about the possibility of a difficult custom design, especially since that was really the only jewelry I made in the entire month of December...ahem, and in January, for that matter.  So let's take a closer (and more accurate) look at the beautiful pieces designed for my lovely friend, Julia.

I don't entirely remember how this conversation started.  Maybe I made some earrings with feathers or talked about it or she just saw the pictures posted on Facebook.  In any case, she approached me about making feather earrings to go with her New Year's Eve outfit.  She wanted something long - past her shoulders - mixing strands of chain with feathers.  "Sure, why not," I tell her.  It sounds fun - I'm sucker for anything chain heavy - and I've been wanting to incorporate feathers into my work for a while.  A few days later, Julia made another request:  a special statement piece for one of her closest, dearest, most best-est friends.  Sweet!  Statement pieces are fun - big, chunky, over the top - what's not to love?  The specifications were rather simple; use natural colors and/or elements, preferably a necklace, and avoid super sparkly or heavily chained styles.  No chains?!  WTH, does Julia even look at what I do?  Good thing I enjoy a challenge. 

So I started putting together ideas - Julia's NYE earrings were pretty straight forward and production went rather smoothly.  The only hang up was Dexter, of course.  Little squishy-squishy kitten face looooves himself some feathers.  I'd come home from work and find a row of feathers under the kitchen table, in the bedroom, or outside Ryan's studio.  It'd be one thing if I left my work on the kitchen table, but I don't.  It sits up on top of the fridge, along with the printer, some Mason jars, a few vases, and now, apparently, this guy. 
I found myself lacking motivation for the statement piece.  Maybe it was the holiday rush at work and feeling pressed for time, or maybe it was a mental block - no chains.   In searching for inspiration, I came across this beautiful little gem at one of my favorite Etsy shops.  Suddenly inspired, I knew what I wanted to work with.  Shells!  Glorious, overly inflated, beautifully iridescent shells paired with simple pearls and a few feathers for texture.  Pretty much perfect.

I brought the pieces to Julia.  I was delighted, Julia was thrilled, and on Christmas Day, her friend was ecstatic.

the "statement" piece



"in flight" NYE earrings



A(Nother) New Year.

Yes.  I know.  It's been awhile.  Maybe I should send flowers.  Or chocolates.  Maybe a card.  At the very least, an explanation.  And I could tell you all about how December is the worst month.  Ever.  And all the numerous reasons why I shut down physically, emotionally, and creatively during this time.  I could tell you all about how it starts early because my real job is in retail and how totally numb I am to the holiday spirit by the end of November.  I could tell you about what I do - processing and packing and shipping boxes and the gift certificates.  The handwritten, hand addressed, put in the mail non-stop flow of gift certificates, all day, everyday.  The invariable "Happy Holidays," "Merry Christmas" and "Happy New Year" or the "with all my love," "hugs and kisses, "xoxo," "see you next year" wears on one's soul after awhile.  Let's get creative people.  Really.

I could also tell you about my disillusionment - how one time Christmas meant something more than buy! buy! buy! and get! get! get! and stuff! stuff! stuff!  and how it used to be a time about peace and family and good will towards men, not consumerism.

I could also tell you about my grandfather's death and how the anniversary is 11 days before Christmas; the day before my grandmother's birthday.  I could also tell you about how it makes me think of my grandma and her own mortality.  That train of thought leads me to think about my family and how her death will effect an already tenuous and deeply fractured family structure.  I mean, I could tell you all about these things but if I really wanted to bore you with the mundane details of my life, I'd have a LiveJournal account.  But I don't.  So I won't.  But if reading semi-autobiographical fiction is your thing, be on the lookout for my side project, Defining Irony, in the not so near future.

But what does any of this have to do with jewelry?  Nothing, really.  There hasn't been much time (or energy) to create.  But there have been requests.  Requests for custom designs.  Fun.  I hear those words and immediately think of this. 
Custom designs are tricky - it starts out all fun and games then someone inevitably loses an eye.  Or something like that.  The buyer gives a brief and rather vague description of what they want and usually ends the conversation with "but do whatever you like - I trust your aesthetic and dig your style."  Cool.  So I come home and start planning and sketching and designing and I'm totally into it and I love it and I'm so proud and I can't wait to show it to them.  And then...

And then the piece is presented with a flourish, "ta-da!"  So proud, so excited, and it's so...quiet.  Like crickets quiet.  And the chatter starts: "yeah, but I was thinking more like..." or "that's nice, but could we maybe try..." or "oh, i didn't think it would look like that."  So much for my style and aesthetic, right?  But seriously, it's hard not to feel insulted in some way - maybe it's more hurt from an over-inflated ego being crushed.  All that talk about how awesome my work is that someone wants me to make something special just.  for.  them and then bam!  What I did is suddenly not good enough.  But this is really just a worse case scenario.  Thankfully, I haven't actually encountered it.  Yet.  But I still feel it's best for all parties concerned if their eyes light up and they squeal with delight over something I've already made.  But occasionally, I can be persuaded to make something custom.  For the right person.  Or the right price.

And in other news, the light box has been finished. What does this mean for Scarlet & Madrone?  More consistent photos, better quality photos (hopefully), and more listings of beautiful designs for sale here.