Sea Glass for all Seasons

Fall is in the air, and my Autumn sea glass is now for sale at Zsa Zsa Boutique in Plymouth.  Here are two pieces of my most recent work.

Burnished

Autumn Leaf

I’m thrilled to have my work in this charming and eclectic shop.  It’s the  perfect place to find beautiful gifts for yourself and your girlfriends.
Check out this link, to read more about Zsa Zsa Boutique.

Also look for more of my work soon at the Cottage Shop in Weymouth, (beside the South Shore Hospital).
And in December, I will be back at Uplifting Connections in Bridgewater.

To order from me directly, email me at seaglasscatch@gmail.com

You mean, they’re selling?

I procrastinated all month about bringing over cords to add to my pendants that were on display at Uplifting Connections in Bridgewater, MA. I imagined walking in and finding the case full to overflowing, just as I had left it. I imagined that not a single piece had sold, and I would be, what? Humiliated? Embarrassed? Exposed? All of the above. It doesn’t matter that I have gone through Julia Cameron’s series on The Artist’s Way twice. It doesn’t matter that I have facilitated the course for others three times. My inner artist is still afraid of rejection ~ and asking people to pay money for my work, is about as vulnerable as I get. It was a HUGE step out in faith to go into the stores in the first place, put my work out on the counters, and say, “This is what I do.” Each time, I received a resounding, “Yes! I like it. I want it.” Still, I am not a woman who assumes positive praise is a foundation upon which I can build.

So, I was nervous to find out how my jewelry had done now that my time as “Artist of the Month” was coming to an end. It was, however, the last day of the month, and I had no place left to hide. I called to tell Laurie I would be by that day. “Well,” she said. “I don’t have an Artist for next month, if you would like to just keep them here for August.”

“Sure, why not”, I said. A stroke of luck to get more exposure than I had planned on. And then, the hard question. “How are they doing?”

“Good”, she said. “We’ve sold eleven so far, and I think they do better if you have the cords with them. Can you bring more cords?”

Eleven? Eleven? I was ecstatic. Eleven people had agreed to part with their cash for my jewelry. Could I bring cords? Of course I could. I brought the cords, reworked the display, and promised to bring more inventory before I went away on vacation.

I am not an abject failure. I am not an artist wannabe. I am me, making sea glass pendants and selling what I make. My daughter said once, looking at my work, “It’s weird that you’re good at this.” That’s a little how I feel too. But I’m getting used to it, and it feels wonderful.

Losing my sea glass marbles

I imagined her like Ursula, the Villainess in Disney’s Ariel ~ this woman who was fighting me for a sea glass marble on Ebay. Not just an ordinary sea glass marble, but one with an orange swirl the color of a Caribbean sunset. A marble with the perfect frost patina of a sugar coated gum drop. This is the kind of marble that was up for auction on Ebay.

It isn’t that I don’t already own a few marbles that have been tossed around by the surf. In sea glass collecting world, marbles are for some, the equivalent of coming across a vase from the Ming dynasty at a barn sale in Vermont. And I, lucky girl that I am, have had the amazing good luck to spot more than half a dozen of the precious orbs hiding on rocky beaches. I say it’s because the sea glass knows who loves it, and the marbles in particular are definitely not going home with anyone who doesn’t appreciate the whimsy of a child’s toy that has been dancing with the waves and playing hide and seek in the sand for maybe fifty years or more.

And though I love each of my marbles, the black and white swirl, the lemon yellow, the ocean blues, I was haunted by the picture of this orange creamsicle marble every time I received an email saying that I had been outbid, yet again, by Ursula the witch.

I had to decide, how valuable? What would I part with, to capture the prize? Ten dollars? Fifteen? At what point would the pain of gaining it be greater than the pain of losing it? No one else could decide for me, and I knew this question applied to much more than this frosted marble that wouldn’t even be worth a penny to many people.

I place the intrinsic value on the sea glass, just as I place the intrinsic value on each of my relationships. I was in two bidding wars this week. In one, the prize was an orange sea glass marble, in the other, the prize was a dear friendship. To lose one would be annoying, but acceptable. To lose the other would be tragic and regrettable.

All I could do in both cases, was to stand in my highest bid and hope that would be enough. In the case of the marble, it wasn’t. Ursula’s bid was higher and she took the prize. I hope she doesn’t cage it in silver and turn it into a necklace, because I have a strong belief marbles should be free to roll. And people too, if they wish. I had to grant that my friend might roll away from me forever, and if that was what she wanted, I would have to respect her decision. Instead, thank God, she accepted my last minute bid and rolled back to me. It has been scary to think that I could lose someone that precious, that quickly, in the fiery heat of an argument gone out of control. Better to lose a sea glass marble a hundred times over, than the kind of person who only rolls around once in a lifetime.

That said, if anyone has any sea glass marbles they can live without, send them my way, will you? To make up for the one that got away on Ebay.

Sea Glass Lessons – Finding my place in the case

Helen’s Piece

My friend Helen calls from Hampton Beach to tell me that she brought my sea glass pendant into a store filled with other artists’ sea glass jewelry, and the sales clerk was complimentary of my work.  She was interested enough in my style, to ask Helen more questions when told I was starting a new business.  Helen was happy for me and calling with the name of the shop for me.  Isn’t that what we all want?  To find our place ~ among all the others?  To be “chosen”?  Not to the exclusion of all others ~ but with a specificity that still leaves us feeling valued for what only we can bring?  We want to hear, “The case will not be quite complete unless I have a touch of your Sea Glass Catch.”

I want to claim my space in the case now. For so many years, I would not even ask.  Now I am going into boutiques with samples of my work, holding out my pieces like offerings, lovingly and without fear.  I’m a little stunned now that two more shops want to carry my jewelry.  It’s wonderful to be chosen.  But even more wonderful, is that I am being courageous on my own behalf.  The artist inside of me waited decades to be championed by the one person who was up to the task ~ Me!

Debut of Sea Glass Catch

Here are two pieces of my work, ready for tomorrow’s trip to a jewelry case. Every step of the process is fun for me, from the gathering of sea glass, to the wrapping and beading, down to the final gift card finish. This is the first time I have placed my jewelry for sale in a store, and though it is a small Wellness center and Cafe, I am pleased to have the chance to sell my work. Hopefully, other women will “catch” the sea glass fever, so I can keep making these.

Click on the pictures if you want to see something close up!

Sea Glass Lessons

Sea Glass Lessons

The Creative Process Through

the Art of Making Sea Glass Jewelry

Sea glass is my latest obsession. Passion is too gentle a word for the relationship I have with sea glass. The way that I love the shapes, colors, flaws and perfections. The pleasure I take in seeking, with an open heart, along the shore, for hidden gems among the rocks. Quiet, with only the sound of the waves beating out a rhythm of comfort ~ alone with my prayers. And though it feels spiritual, it is ME, after all, that I bring to this spiritual adventure, and me is a woman who subscribes to the “if a little is good, more must be better” mantra of living.

In theory, I know there is enough good to go around, (God knows you can’t read a single spiritual book and not be reminded of this principle). In practice, I am going to beaches as often as possible, filling plastic bags like an obsessive lover stealing kisses before parting. There have been moments I’ve recognized as the whispers of addiction. On beaches for example, when my daughter has to use a bathroom so bad she is running back to the car, and I can’t wrench my eyes from the sand, for fear of missing a frosted aqua or pink gem. Some of my sea glass is for my private collection. I have a two inch peach frosted perfume bottle stopper. A marble swirled in black and white. An amethyst bottle top. But much of my collection is now being used for my next creative pursuit ~ sea glass jewelry.

I think what I love most about making the jewelry, besides the tactile satisfaction of running my fingers over the cool, smooth surface of the sea glass and appreciating the colors and shapes, is the way each piece is unique and unrepeatable. For a girl who thinks kaleidoscopes, mosaics, and snowflakes are the epitome of creative truth, each of my sea glass pendants reminds me that creativity is always about change, growth, and surprise.

The reason I love writing and making art is because, finally, finally, I don’t have to stay pinned down in place. I MUST, if I want to be a writer and artist, allow myself to surrender to the flow and be taken to unexplored territory. There is the unexplored artistic territory ~ experimenting with pink wire when before I used only silver, or learning how to swirl beads through loops of wire when before I used to hug the glass. But there is also the unexplored territory of my personal landscape, because I have discovered, that if I am deeply engaged with my art, I am also deeply engaged with myself.

I wrestle, with wire and sea glass, using patience to wedge a small piece snug against a larger one. I use wire to bind them in a way that I hope will give birth to a beautiful pendant with crystals that catch the light as they dance on a coil of silver. On my spiritual journey, I am wrestling, too, with myself, using patience to wedge a small piece of confidence snug against a larger piece of trust. I use faith to bind them in a way that I hope will give birth to a woman more mature spiritually. I may be obsessed, but finally, I am hungry for something that can fill me up.

Here is a picture of a work in progress.…..

Using it as a jumping off point for contemplation and reflection, I wrote the following……

This piece taught me that thin is not always better and prissy is not always perfect. Each time I pick up this piece, I’m closer to taking it apart, even though I love the placement of each crystal, and the cage swirls, if done in heavier wire, would have been perfect. Also, this wire does not respect the glass ~ windshield glass ~ sturdy, practical, safety glass, wrapped in delicate strands of gold. It’s wrong ~ all wrong. Why is it so hard for me to admit mistakes? Because I have such high hopes for my success? Because I’ve invested time? Because I don’t need any further confirmation that I’m a screw up? I wish to be ~ in spirit ~ like my sea glass jewelry. Intricate and delicate. Curious and intriguing. Playful and happy. Whimsical, colorful, sparkling, and above all…beautiful.

My instinct was to trash this piece, but I think now, it can be salvaged. If I tighten the wire, tweak it a bit, someone will want it. My time and talent will not be trashed. My hard, though imperfect work will enrich someone’s life. Like my mothering. Done imperfectly, but with enough devotion to help produce three fine, human beings. It isn’t my perfectionism that has served me well, it’s my willingness to stay with the task, cleaning up the mistakes as best as possible, resolving to learn from them, doing the best I can with what I have to work with.

Here’s what the piece taught me ~ there’s no shame in outgrowing your previous “best.” I’m learning how to do sea glass wraps, and there is value and joy in the learning. So what if two weeks ago, I was patting myself on the back for how beautiful this piece was, and tonight I see its flaws? The fun is in the maturation of all art ~ even the art of one’s life. Who ever told me I didn’t get to be a beginner? A novice? An understudy? I honor all of my work as the necessary stepping stone to where I am now. I honor all of my life as the necessary stepping stone to who I am now.

I am going to take tools to this piece to tighten and tweak. If it works, and I can salvage it ~ great! If not, I will take it apart and try something new. With each piece I build confidence. Not in my ability to make beautiful pendants, but in my willingness to call myself a working artist. An Experiential Creative. A child at play. A willing conduit for Spirit. My ego wants each piece to be perfection. My soul wants to step into the Mystery with glass, beads, and wire, and be willing to create and accept the results, without judgment.

What this piece has taught me is….not every creation has to be amazing to be satisfying. Not every blog that I write has to be amazing to be satisfying. I can relax into my work, into my life, and feel a contentment that is mine not because I’ve achieved perfection, but because I’ve experienced, for a moment, the pleasure of being fully human.

Here is what the pendant looked like after I went back with a more refined technique.

The differences, to be sure, are subtle. But so are the incremental changes in my spiritual growth. For today, I have the satisfaction of knowing that I gave the best I had to offer.