I am a very serious person, absolutely, adulting adult.
I am a very serious person, absolutely, adulting adult.
I once wrote on my facebook work page, that’d I’d accept all unwanted, and odd pieces of jewelry or findings for re-purposing. They can be broken, they can be damaged, it’s all fine with me.
The first to respond was DarkAristocratic, also known as SecondChildren. She sent me a whole pack of goodies that have inspired me to make a whole ton of wonderful things, and, honestly, I don’t even know which one I love the most. And best of all, I still have a ton of things left!
The brooch in the picture above was born thanks to her too. The center-piece was a gorgeous button. I repainted the inside with black mat paints, hooked it on a ribbon, added some beads, and now it’s one of my favorite pieces. I say that about many pieces I make, but that’s the honest truth.
Bloody hell I’m easy to please. If you follow me on Goodreads, you know I just got into Captive Prince by C.S. Pacat. And, I’m starting to see a pattern here. At first I thought I simply prefer same gender pairings, but now I think I like people who seek survival, proper survival, no matter what hits them. When I say “proper” I mean not the way Jokaste in that book does: power is not necessarily survival, for Laurent, prince of Vere, is pretty much in constant danger. To the point where it seems the only person he can actually trust is a man who would be his mortal enemy – prince of Akielos, opposing country at verge of war with Vere.
And while Damen goes through a lot to survive too, he is, in general, a kinder soul. I don’t think I’m a kind soul, therefor I understand why I don’t click with personages who are. I loved Watney from Martian, but I didn’t develop a fictional crush, as I have with Laurent.
So, to stop digressing, I simply embraced it. It took some sacrifices, like my reading pace getting back to slow again, for these books are really short, and I get real badly attached to fictional characters. Still, yesterday I’ve read till 4am, and had to force myself to put the book away.
But other things went better. Laurent’s colors are white, gold, and blue. I’ve nothing icy-blue, and admittedly I really lack gold colored crafting materials. But I had this bronze-y stuff, and lapis lazuli… Results you see above. You can find Blue Bloods at Etsy if it’s still available: [Necklace: Blue Bloods]
For extra pictures indulge in my Patreon, takes from 1 to 5 dollars to view it all, the rest are just perks (one includes you telling me what to read next, feel free to opt in for a month!) : [Patreon: Blackwood]
P.S. Akinator knows my boys too, both Damianos and Laurent too
For better or for worse, I now have a Patreon too.
As I was making my Lapis Lazuli (Blue Bloods) necklace, with my fingers scratched, cold, and stained, feeling as stiff as they looked, I noticed myself smiling. I was enjoying what I did. This was it, I was happy, I was proud, I thought of it as beautiful, which is not something I often think of my own work.
So, next obvious step was to take my friend’s advice and get Patreon. I always thought I have nothing to offer, but sometimes, I guess, what you do is enough of an offer. I can’t draw comics, as much as I would love to. I paint portraits, but they’re very simple. I make real interesting postcards, but that’s kinda it. The rest is jewelry.
I logged in with caution, thus. When I could, I was a patron to one artist there, but then my situation forced me out of all the things I liked. Having a patron account means you only have to switch it to become an artist account, which I did, still cautious, unsure of how will this ever work.
And you know what? This was the best decision ever. Why? Because I’m tired of instagram’ing shit, where you get likes from bots, sales accounts, accounts that serve only one purpose – getting likes and followers, and then a few friends there and here, if they saw it even. Because twitter is too small. Because facebook has a harmful algorithm. Because blogging about one piece of jewelry with tens of pictures to it of wire bits, and loops is not something easily doable. But Patreon got it covered.
The night I made it I spent uploading singular pictures, and collections on there, telling short little stories where it was relevant. For once I felt free to talk about a picture of a snapped-off jewelry nail. So if nothing else, Patreon is a wonderful outlet for me.
And while I’m still not sure how it’ll all work, and work out, I don’t feel stressed over it, because anyone can opt out at any given time. And the fact that my first patron is a friend of mine, who, I hope, still remembers I wasn’t always the worst breed of a person, makes it a little bit more… Rather, LESS, sterile, cold, and corporate-feeling.
So, come around, visit me, there’s a lot of free to view stuff (most of it is, actually), for some you have to register thou, I think. And for just one buck, you can view the rest of it too: https://www.patreon.com/blackwood
So, today a bit about my side-job-hobby. Jewelry crafting. To be more specific, of my newest piece: Elven Autumn.
I made this with a sense of Gothic Lolita, Elven Gothic Lolita, Elven Goths, and Japanese type of lolita. Basically it’s fantasy+goth in my head. It took me three hours to make it, so I’m selling it for three times less of what it’s worth, and invite you to think about it.
The ribbon is what took me so long. At first I wanted to make four little loops, but as sewing went on, I realized I just cannot for the life of me base it all on how well will the glue hold it. So I ripped it all off, and started youtubing: how to make a perfect bow. You’re witnessing the result. Yes, symmetry is not perfect, but it’s hand made, it doesn’t have to be perfect. One of the kind is never perfect.
Then, of course, the perfect length of bead bib. Oh how difficult it was to decide. I settled for this length of 9, for I thought of black cats and their nine lives. In the back it is sewed to the ribbon, and the ribbon is tightly sewed onto what I assume is a button loop at the back of this pretty little brooch base you’re seeing. So it’s as secure as they come, I promise.
Now, why the autumn? Because when I put it on the red marble, in the chill of the room, it just spoke to me of autumn, fall, cool dawns with someone in a full attire, and this under their chin.
So this is my baby. Love it as I do, please. Below some more pictures, you may use any of them if you give credit where credit is due (and if you link me to it, I will put it somewhere public in return, win-win)
I just really, truly, with a passion hate dust. It’s everywhere, it is there ten seconds after you dusted. In my pen holder you can tell which pens I use the least, for they accumulate dust. You can tell which books I didn’t touch by the layer of dust on it. Heck, you can probably tell when I finished that book by the thickness of said layer. And worst is, while I hate it there, I also hate dusting. So it’s a constant war between what I hate more, and to which will I therefor succumb.
Basically, this entry is me trying to get back on track. It might be a very short attempt, since we might get evicted in about five weeks, since next month they threaten to cut of all of our water due to 300 euro debt that we can’t afford (when the choice is medicine that your parents need to live and bills – it’s not much of a choice, but you can help us out if you feel like via donation button on the right side of this blog, it’s that big blue and orange one, since wordpress doesn’t allow any decent methods of button creation). So let’s just try again to talk about nothing, as I used to do when it wasn’t yet a job, and when I wasn’t (sort of, willingly) forced to do it.
While pushing things around, preparing for dusting, I realized a thing. I have a secret stash of books. Once upon a time I took a dust-jacket off a book before sending it out to a friend (she never received it, it got lost in the mail, so I was left with that dust-jacket collecting dust). Today that dust jacket contains three smaller books, and makes a fake front. Basically I just don’t want people to read their backs and freak out, so I hide them undercover. And they’re dusty…
I also realized I have a box full of little things that I planned to send out to my friends. As time went by, my plans of packages dwindled until finally I no longer thought about it, being unable to add anything, being unable to afford the shipping, or, often, even the secure envelope. It’s odd to find it now, odd to think how much those people meant for me, how every day they were on my mind, how seeing some book made me think of them and whether they’d like it. I wonder if anyone thinks or thought of me as much. Doesn’t feel like most of the time, to be honest. And some of them have absolutely certainly forgotten I exist.
As for what I do when I don’t try to beat myself up, poison myself, cut myself, hurt myself, or work on underpaid projects, keeping my teeth clenched in the face of impending eviction and hate, is: I craft. Some time ago I wrote in my facebook that I’d accept any unwanted jewelry, even the broken stuff (heck, broken stuff is even better), and one person actually packed me up a bunch of just pure wonder. I was given jewelry to recycle before, of course, hence the idea, and in general for this thought I am grateful to a friend from Bulgaria. But this package was exceptional.
First of all, it reached me battered to the point where I had to keep the moist, chewed up, and scratched up rag that had semblance of her address on it, just as a souvenir, because I’ve never seen an envelope downgraded so hard. Second, it was packed into a plastic bag, with leftovers of this envelope, and sort of a note from post, with vague “oh, so… well… this happened… we’re sorry, probably” in it. But the contents were all nice and safe, and I hope it contained all it had to contain. There was a gorgeous head-piece, a fantastic necklace, random bits and pieces, and this amazing bracelet from what I think is sea-shell pieces, cut to fit together. Bit by bit I’m undoing it all, trying to put pieces together in my mind. I intend to make a little collection called “Red Regals”, for it seems collections sell best.
Next time, hopefully, I will show you the Halloween candy I received, a goth tomato I ate, and tell you of the week we spent on a dozen of eggs.
So technically this is not just July, but some of the August too. It all blends together thou, so bear with me.