Wednesday, May 30, 2007

be still my beading heart...

Yesterday afternoon, while the sun boiled beyond these walls ... for me anything above 70 is boiling... I went to my rickity shop for inspiration ... remind me to purchase a cheap but adequate fan. So ... anyway... I'd found a wonderful peach colored porcelain bead awhile ago, it was very simple but looked delicate and it was the only one @ the shop where I got it ... so I bought it ... just a little crackled and dimpled on the surface like fine china. Some thoughful handiwork. So it inspired me yesterday ... I made it into a pendant with a tassle of blue lace agate, quartz crystal, peach freshwater pearls and a couple of Czech glass crystals for the "glitzy factor" which is often a necessary embellishment (sort of like the crunch factor in dog food) ... three strands of pearls and a very funky S clasp later ... it's so cute...don't you think?

Then ... being so inspired and seeing beads bobbing around in a billowing cloud above my head crying "me! me! me! pick me next!" I moved on ... oh .... the sweet little carnelian butterflies! .... and faceted smokey quartz and silver dragonflies! what to do next... I attached them, among other things 26 inches of silver chain like a swath of charms and finished it off with the neatest heart clasp I found at Shipwreck ... it's like this intertwining heart thingy. I held the finished product up in the air and admired it ... silver reflecting like a mirror and ... I couldn't take it anymore ... I ran for the tea kettle and a chunk of liver of sulpher ... and unceremoniously plunked the whole thing into the greenish-yellowy brown gruel and pulled out a perfectly black chain. The Irishman winced when he saw it (he always shows up at the most appropriate time to comment). Do people really like that stuff? Oh shut up. I like it. If I like it... someone else out there likes it ... go away now, I told him. I'm busy. When did you become the expert anyway! You're supposed to be building the deck.

That's why I like working with animals. They think every thing I do is just dandy and never EVER question me! Men!

The poor man, speaking of decks, shhhhhh ... he doesn't know I'm speaking of it ....he spent the whole evening putting on the spindles ... whatever the heck they are called ... the slats between the rails? And had to take them down again because one was 3 inches instead of 4 ... perfectionism is a curse. Poor devil was so disheartened. Nevermind, I said. Who needs slats or spindles, or whatever they're called. He slowly moved his eyes in my direction and the c orner of his lip curled just slightly. Okay ... ummm ... we'll start all over tomorrow night I said backing away slowly, and ... not to worry. Tea?

I sat out on the platform last night until a mosquito scout found me and called her entourage to join her and partake in the human flesh feast ... did you know only the females drink blood ... I learned that on Discovery I think. But WHO THE HELL CARES! Do you think I care that she drinks blood to feed her brood of wrigglers birthing in some soilent, stale waterhole? I have pretty much come to believe that there is nothing on the earth that shouldn't be here ... but then I try to justify mosquitos and I really can't for the life of me come up with a reason for their existence. If you can, please ... please tell me.

ooh ... time to run the wee lad to school. He's only 6 feet and wears a size 12 shoe! Later .... ~ lora

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