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!

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.