Spring Things.

 Well, hi there!

Can you believe that it's September already? I ask myself the same question every year. Where does the time go?

As usual, I had plans to achieve so much, but those plans were derailed by various life happenings, as is often the case. But that's ok. I'm a "go with the flow" kind of gal, so I'm not too stressed about not crossing things off my loosely scribbled to-do list.

I finished the quilted wall hanging that I was working on in my previous post.  I had some challenging moments when it looked uneven and then I was worried that I had cut my binding too narrow. But I persevered and finished it and I'm very happy with the outcome. It's listed here.

Finished abstract quilted wall hanging ©2024

I had a very different idea for the mounting, but despite spending a few days noodling around in the garage, I couldn't get that idea to work quite how I envisioned it. So I mounted this piece on some lovely scrap timber that I bought off a cabinet maker. I think it's oak.

I tried to get better at using power tools to do some of these timber projects, but honestly, most power tools are not made for small hands (and more so when those small hands are having grip strength issues!) I had to wait for days when The Bloke was available to do the timber work, because what would take me hours, he could knock over in a matter of minutes. I've got a nice batch of timber hangers in stock now, so that the next piece I make won't be held up by my not having them finished and ready to go. I've got a mix of plain timber, which I'll sand and then give a beeswax coating to, as well as some textured ply that I'm playing around with.

Textured wood hangers, painted in grey primer.

Timber scrap with an abstract pattern burnt onto the surface.

Timber hangers with paste applied to create a textured surface.

It's frustrating when you have an idea in your head, but can't work out how to make it a reality because you don't have the skills or the materials to make it work. And on top of that, when you try to do things in a sustainable way, that's an added hurdle to get over. Sure, I could 3D print something, or have it vacuum formed or moulded. But that's expensive, usually made from toxic materials, pricey or too slow for my impatient brain to wait for. The wood burning was a fail because the wood was too hard and the tool got stuck in the grain. If I tried that again, I would use a softer wood, like pine.

The wet, windy days we've had over Winter have been the perfect time to experiment in the garage. I did learn though, that sanding wood creates a fine dust that get's over everything! (I was wearing goggles and a ventilator.) All of the camping gear, exercise equipment and suitcases were covered in dust, so I need to invest in a better extraction fan or cover the stored items in tarps and boxes.

I haven't much felt the urge to start on a new project lately, but I have been working on some packaging/display options for the jewellery collection I made at the end of 2023, start of 2024. I really need to get them listed on my website, but wanted to make sure that if they did sell, I wouldn't be held up sending them off because I didn't have a suitable box to post them in.  I know that many businesses are all about branding and how they can be promoted on social media, but I have a problem with spending huge amounts of money on something that will be put in the (hopefully recycle) bin.  I sourced cardboard boxes locally, then have been using materials that I've collected from recycling facilities to create something to keep the necklaces safe and secure in transit.

Felt and leather jewellery display with cardboard easel. 

The biggest revelation was finally tracking down what I now know are called 'binding screws' or 'Chicago screws'. I had collected long ones from fabric sample books, but was desperate to get my hands on short ones, in a variety of finishes. I asked The Bloke if he knew of them, but his search came up empty handed. In frustration, I searched for "screws used to bind sample books together" and that's when my search yielded results. The screws give a nicer finish than using rivets. I also made some easel stands with scrap cardboard from Reverse Art Truck in Ringwood.  Now I just need to get them listed onto the website and fingers crossed, make a sale or two!  (Go and check it out and subscribe to the mailing list if you'd like to be kept up to date about new items.)

So that's what's been happening at Joystuff HQ. Cheers!

Trusting the process.

 G'day Stuffers! (Is it bold of me to give my readers a nickname? Does anyone else read this blog?)

I've just taken a break from the studio to make myself a coffee, wash a few dishes that I left soaking in the sink and take some pain medication to try and get rid of the headache that is forming.

The very messy studio before it had a major clean up last month.

I'm not sure if the headache is a symptom of my erratic period (hello perimenopause) or if it's from too much computer work/end of financial year stressors.  I finished what work I had to do at around lunchtime today, then headed in to the studio for some creative time.  I've had so many ideas forming in my head lately, but I just haven't had the time to get stuck in to it. I actually have to write myself a list to remind myself to make time for crafting. It's so easy to be distracted by Pinterest or Instagram (although I'm trying to wean myself off the latter, now that Meta has decided to implement AI scraping), and I've often said that I sometimes spend so much time developing an idea that by the time I get around to creating it, the urge has gone.

Improv patchwork made from decorator remnants.

                                          

I've spent the past few months thinking about making things to add to my Madeit store. I was so excited when the site was refreshed and relaunched last year. The new owner, Leina Broughton, has a wealth of knowledge about selling online, and she was happy to give us all pointers on how to market ourselves and our products, how to take better photos and write better headings to make SEO work for us. But the more videos I watched and the more things I read from other sellers on the Facebook page, I began to wonder if it was the right platform for me. The push to constantly post on Instagram, and to create reels and videos of me in the studio, didn't sit well with me. I don't want to be a content creator. I want to make weird little things from the many piles of fabrics I've collected over the years. I don't have a consistent look to my work. It's something that has bothered me my whole creative life. But I've accepted the fact. I make what I make because I enjoy teaching myself new skills. I like to use the things that I've collected. I'm not about mass producing products. And I'm not in it for the money. (Although it's always nice to make a sale and then donate 10% of that sale to a deserving cause.)

So, I keep coming up with ideas and I keep trying to bring them to fruition. But I just don't have the drive like I did when I was making bags to sell at markets. I think it's a combination of an oversaturated market for anything anyone could possibly want, coupled with a feeling of not being good enough, or not having the skills to market myself. 

Improv patchwork piece with added stitching, that I started in May. It's sat idle for the last few weeks.

I'll keep plugging away. I like the fact that when I'm in the studio sorting through fabrics and playing around with ideas, it helps me to destress from 'real' work. It also means that I get some time to myself, as the family tend to leave me to my own devices when I'm in there with the music turned up loud. (I can't tell you how many times they've startled me when they open the door.)
And hopefully soon, I'll have some new items to add to my shop and feel like I've accomplished something. 

Everyday Art Practice

 Hello there!

As usual, the months have started to zoom by, and here we are in April. Daylight Savings ended last weekend, which signals cooler evenings, earlier dinners and more time for creative pursuits, since I'm not outside until all hours, pottering in the garden.

January/February passed by in a blur.

The youngest child turned 21 at the end of January, so now I feel old. Both of my babies are officially adults now.😭 We had a lovely, low key barbeque lunch with close friends and family.

I managed a trip up to Tolmie mid-February. My remaining pine trees needed to be planted as we had a run of hot weather that really dried out the pots. Unbeknownst to me, some of the pots had blown over in a storm and were laying on their sides, not getting any rain. I got most of them in the ground and fenced them off using mesh panels that we had acquired at an auction. It was a very labour intensive 4 days, but I'm so pleased that I got them in the ground. I haven't had a chance to check on them since, but hope to get up there over the Easter break.

In my previous post, I mentioned that I was revisiting an embroidered panel that I had started quite a few years ago.  Unfortunately, I lost interest in that when I had an idea to add some black lace details to it, but couldn't find the materials to continue. I did buy a black lace dress at the Op-Shop and began to pull it apart, but the desire to continue had already left me. It's back on the WIP board until I get the urge to pick it up again. I played around with a few beaded pieces that I'd started, but nothing was holding my interest for very long. It may have been a combination of warm weather and an arm injury that was holding me back.

I'd often thought about buying one of those books that gives you an idea to create every day, such as this book by Lorna Scobie. I held off buying it whenever I saw it in the bookshop, because I knew my past record with finishing projects wasn't great and figured I'd do one or two pages then add it to the pile of neglected creative projects. Then one day, whilst mindlessly scrolling on Twitter or Facebook, I saw that someone had bought a Day to a Page diary and was drawing in it everyday. I decided that this was something that I could definitely handle.  When I was next at the shops, I purchased an A5 spiral bound diary with as little text on the pages as possible. I started on January 27th. I originally had the intention of going back and completing the January days that I had missed, but realised later on that this was probably not going to happen.

The goal was not to overthink things, but to just get something onto the page, using the tools and materials I have around me. (As an art supply addict, I have quite a few different mediums to choose from.) I would use images from books and magazines, online inspiration and my own photographs as a jumping off point. Quite often I would see a painting that I loved, or a great print on some fabric and think to myself, "I need to create something in that colour scheme or with that modern feel." Now was my chance to give it a go.

I discovered artists such as Sarah Schroeder , Julie Hamilton, Rachel Urquahart & Alisa Burke, and wanted to capture the loose, colourful style like theirs. I'd played around with collage here and there and really enjoyed it. It is a medium best suited to a large workspace where you can spread out all of the little bits and pieces of paper so that you can see the possibilities of the shapes and colours. My desk isn't that big and it's currently sharing space with beading supplies, books and various pens, glues and scissors. I have a drawer under my desk stuffed to the brim with scrapbook paper, old album covers, paper bags and various bits of wrapping paper. Collage is the perfect way to get ideas down fast, and it has become my go to when I've left my art practice until late in the day.

Some materials are not great on the thin paper that the diary pages are made from. Connector marker pens (left over from when my kids were at school) seep through the paper.

I had to create a cut out on the back of this page in order to cover up the colour seepage.

I bought some new Crayola markers and although I don't have a large colour selection to choose from, they work much better on this paper. They don't blend well and can have a tendency to look a bit messy, but I'm trying to lean into that.

My favourite medium would have to be paint sticks. Originally made for children, these non-toxic, waterbased sticks are like soft, fat crayons that glide on smoothly and can be blended like paint. I have a set of Little Brian and Boyle Chubbies. They're not suitable for fine, detailed colouring, but great for slapping down colour and then adding detail with pens and markers.

The only downside to these are the fact that they are a plastic barrel like a glue stick, so once the stick of paint is used, the barrel will end up in landfill (I can't see a recycling symbol anywhere.) It would be great if the barrels were either made from recycled plastic content, were recyclable or refillable, or the barrel was made of cardboard. It would also be great if you could buy the tubes individually, as there will definitely be colours that run out quicker than the others.

I'm learning so much about my own creative process. I've always liked drawing and sketching to get ideas down, but I've never been able to sit for hours and work on a realistic drawing. I can do an abstract that's full of lots of different textures and patterns, but they always look very 2 dimensional.

I just can't seem to draw what's in my head or what's right in front of me. It's like the hand-eye-brain signal gets crossed along the way. Or I start to draw and then a different style of drawing pops in to my head and I change my idea half way through. Here are some examples of drawing from my mind or using props. You can see how badly they turned out.

I want to practice doing more 3 dimensional drawing as well as learning about perspective, shading etc.

I found a cool picture of a a sculpture on Pinterest (sculpted by Paulie van der Heijden, I believe) and decided to have a go at drawing it. I was quite pleased with the results. I'd also like to draw something similar but instead of copying an object that has been created, try to draw something that I'd like to create myself.

I find that if I use a picture as a jumping off point, it's a great way of learning new techniques. When I saw this vintage fabric print by John Piper,

I knew I wanted to find a way to create the dry brush stroke look, without using a brush. I ended up cutting up some cardboard, painting them and then printing onto the paper.

They will become great colour references later on when I want to make a textile piece and need a starting point. Even though a lot of my stitched and beaded pieces evolve quite organically, it's always good to have an idea to start with, as it makes choosing fabrics so much easier.

I'm hoping to see patterns and a style develop, but all I'm seeing so far is that I really like bright colours and that I'm hesitant to have overlapping or intersecting lines in my drawings, because I'm worried that I'll stuff it up and ruin the picture. I'm only 2 months in, so there is still many pages ahead of me that are open to experimentation.

Anyway, here's a few of my favourites so far.

If you want to follow my progress, you can check out my Instagram stories @joystuffmakes . They're in the highlights section under March art, April art etc.

Welcome to the New Year!

 We have just ticked over to a New Year.  2022 is done and dusted and 2023 has just begun. (Well, it's actually mid afternoon now, but you get what I mean.)

I get excited during the Christmas/New Year period as it's a time to relax from the stresses of work and focus on what projects I'd like to tackle over the coming year.  As this time of year is usually hot and humid, it's a great time to sit inside with a fan running, doing some freehand stitching, or perusing books, websites and magazines and absorbing lots of creative inspiration.

This time last year, my focus was on jewellery making. I'd decided to tidy my workspace and sort the large quantity of beads and jewellery making supplies into a more organised system.

I sourced many images from my library of vintage textile books and started to form some ideas about the direction I wanted to take. I definitely wanted to combine embroidery and beading and use some of the many materials I had been acquiring over the years.

Ideas began to form. I wanted to try to have a better idea of how to make things with the materials that I already had on hand. Previously, I would get a vague idea of what I wanted to create, then become frustrated because I didn't have the right colour thread or the perfect bead. I had to focus on using what was on hand, not buying more.

I often think that I prefer the development and research stage more than the actual creating (which I have talked about previously). I can spend hours doing little scribbles on a page or flicking through books but more often than not, those ideas never become reality. I used to be annoyed at myself for this, but now, I realise that it's just who I am and I'm okay with that.

Carrying on from the "I have more materials than I could possible use in one lifetime", I changed tack Mid-January and acquired a whole bunch of necklaces from the Op-Shop. Vinnies and Salvos knew that they could appeal to my magpie tendencies, by bagging up broken and unloved old jewellery and selling it as a bulk lot.  I LOVE sorting through bags of broken and tangled beads! I think it goes back to when Mum would get boxes of old stuff from Uncle Frank (see previous post for more on him.)

I set myself a challenge to find an ugly old necklace and turn it into something completely different. It wasn't fully planned out- I just grabbed different bits of fabric and thread and started from there.

What was supposed to be a quick little project, ended up taking me about 5 months. I'd work on it for a bit, get frustrated at myself or the lack of findings and other components available in Australia and it would sit on my work table, taking up space.  I did make a few beading boards and that was helpful to be able to pick up the whole project and shift it out of the way. 

In June, I declared that the piece was finished and after photographing it on the mannequin, it now hangs in my hallway.  I'm not completely happy with the composition, but I'm pleased that I made it.

I have a recurring disc injury that made sitting at my desk quite painful, which explains the length of time it took to complete one thing. I'd get pins and needles in my arm if I sat for too long. I tried to complete some quick projects after that, but I could already see that my attention was shifting away from beads and back to textiles. I made few fun necklaces from old beads (some are for sale over at my website, if you're interested in purchasing.)

July saw me start on another piece using a dismantled necklace. I also started up a new sketchbook for jewellery making, to try to keep my ideas in one place. I needed to be better at recording techniques I wanted to try, as well as annotating my sketches with stitch and material ideas.

This piece, and the wall hanging behind it, both remain unfinished.

Another idea formed in August.  I discovered new materials that made working with beads so much easier, (I'm looking at you, bead backing and Fireline thread) and wished I had made this discovery so much earlier.  I had also recently acquired a lot of bugle beads in various colours (thankyou Op-Shop gods) and was kind of obsessed with them. So I started making gem pendants.

These are also currently unfinished and have been pinned to my WIP board for when I feel the urge to pick them up again.

I moved onto another beaded pendant, this time using some crystal chips from an old necklace.

I had an idea to create something weathered and worn, like a brutalist copper wall plaque, with mushrooms and moss growing on it. 

I've finished the stitching, but can't decide on how to mount it, so it's sitting on a bead board waiting for inspiration.

The latter half of the year seemed to be all about recovering from various bouts of Covid-19, respiratory infections or muscle tears.  We had floods and unusual weather for many months, so when the sun was shining, I tried to get out into the garden to make the most of it, and to get the jungle of weeds under control. I did spend a lot of time procrastinating this year. I think when you're not feeling 100% well, you self-soothe with the things that are the least taxing. I've spent way too many hours browsing on Pinterest and Instagram, or reading interior design books.  I've tried to be constant with getting some ideas into my sketchbook and I like going back to it for inspiration.

When I turned 50 at the end of 2020, I realised that I'm not going to make money from being creative like I did in my 20's and 30's. I needed to stop trying to create the Next Big Thing and just enjoy the act of crafting. Since having that revelation, I've enjoyed the creative process much more and I'm enjoying learning new things at my own pace. I read many stories of people that have had full careers, before deciding to live a creative life and having all of this success, seemingly overnight from it. The reality says otherwise. Many stitchers that I've spoken to have all said that they do it for the sheer enjoyment, or for the community that they found. Unless you are relentless with self promotion (which is harder now thanks to the changes to Facebook & Instagram), or market your products via sites like Etsy (which I refuse to because of their stance on CSA materials being sold on the site) or physical markets, how do you get seen?  There are various awards and art prizes that I could try for but truth be known, I don't seek external praise like I used to. I think I've finally realised that the only person that I need to create for, is me.

So in 2023, I've decided to revisit (and hopefully complete) old projects.  I'll fill blank spaces on my wall. I'll make random accessories when the mood strikes. I'll start a project halfway through something else I'm working on and then put the in a box with all of the rest, whether finished or not. 

Here's a few things started back in 2017, 2019 and later. 

I've got the red and green floral piece on an embroidery frame as I write this, and hope for some more hot and humid days over this Summer break, so that I can work on it.

So fingers crossed for a year of good health, free time and untangled threads. 

xx Joy

My creative brain waxes and wains.

I've been a creative person my whole life.

I don't remember a time growing up when I wasn't drawing, painting, sewing or pursuing some other creative endeavour. (There was even a time when I had a go at singing in a band, but as a fairly shy, slightly anxious person, that often involved alcohol for some false courage.)

I learnt to sew from my Mum & Nanna.
My Nanna was exceptional at sewing and made me some beautiful dresses in my youth. She could also do most kinds of needlework, like embroidery, knitting and crochet. I think I had the best dressed dolls in the outer Eastern suburbs.

My Mum kept me clothed in tracksuits and leisure clothes in my teens. I wanted to wear the branded gear, like Sweathog and Crystal Cylinders, but Mum told me that wearing the brands made you look like everyone else, and why would you want that? I only found out years later, that it was because we couldn't afford them.

But she was great at translating the crazy ideas I saw in fashion magazines, like colour blocking and drop waists.

I learned to sew by doing. I made a few things from patterns, but mostly, I'd make things up after having a look at how something was made. I wore a mermaid hem tube skirt that I'd made from a white sheet, to a Blue Light Disco in the 80's. I still remember the whole outfit, which was a cross between Madonna's Like a Virgin look and the baggy tops worn by the ever stylish Bananarama. Thanks to my Uncle, an ex-costume jewellery salesman, I had more than enough strings of faux pearls and diamante brooches to complete the look. 

I'd paint Liechtenstein style Pop Art images onto sheets with fabric paint, then sew them on to my denim jacket. (Yes, I still have them in a box somewhere. Oh look, I found them!)

I also got my first full time job whilst wearing a top I'd made from an old floral sheet. 

When I reached my twenties, I began making handbags from fabric remnants. This came about because I couldn't afford to buy myself a Spencer & Rutherford bag, which I adored because of the bright colours.

In my lunch break, I would often wander around the South Melbourne Market & surrounds. One of my favourite places was an upholstery remnant warehouse that sold end of roll stock, and had a room overflowing with outdated decorator samples. I would spend my whole lunchtime, rifling through tables and boxes over flowing with jewel coloured velvets and rich brocades, many from the high end fabric houses that I admired. (I read a lot of interior design and fashion magazines around that time!)

My stash of fabric pieces from these jaunts became the start of my (*cough* hoarding) sourcing of recycled, reclaimed and vintage fabrics. I scoured op shops, markets and were given gorgeous things by friends and family. I'd spy something at the bottom of a basket and think that it might come in useful someday. Some of those bits of fabric are still stuffed in a box somewhere.

And then began my short stint as a maker of fabric handbags. Originally, I made them for myself because I couldn't find colourful bags in my price range, then branched out to filling requests from friends and colleagues.

When I left work to raise my babies, I had plenty of time to sew and more time to expand my fabric stash. To justify the mounting piles of fabric in our rather cramped townhouse, I began to sell my bags at the markets. I probably made and sold bags at the markets, on Ebay and Etsy for around 10 years. I had return customers and liked being able to buy my Bloke Christmas presents with money that I had earned. When we moved to a bigger house and I outgrew the office that I was sharing with the Bloke, he offered to build me a sewing studio. I felt like I had reached the big leagues! I was very productive and spent many late nights before market day, busily cutting and sewing. It was my quiet space and I loved it and filled it to the brim with all of the materials and trims a crafty diva could want.

It was great while it lasted, but there came a point where it was no longer enjoyable. The market scene was changing and the online scene was flooded. So I stopped making bags and started creating just for the sake of creating. I had the luxury of being able to head in to the studio, picking up fabric and seeing what it became. It also gave me the benefit of trying crafts that I had been interested in for a long time but never had a moment to pursue. I began to embroider onto my fabric remnants to make some textured wall hangings. I used leather and vinyl and velvet and metallic threads to try to recreate the modernist /brutalist wall hangings from the 50's, 60's and 70's. They rarely turned out how I envisioned as I never had the right fabrics on hand, which would often lead to me hunting down more supplies. I would get a bit manic in my search for the right materials and then if I found them, I'd be so burnt out that whatever project I had in mind would be thrown on the WIP pile. This has become a bit of a pattern in recent years and something that I am now very aware of and am taking steps to rectify. (*cough* hoarding!)

Some of these were whipped up in a day, whilst many were worked on for months. There's a lot of hand stitching and beading on some of those pieces, which is probably not the best creative pursuit for someone with failing eyesight! But it's like meditation and I get lost in it. My house gets quite neglected when I get into my creative rhythm and if not for other family members complaining of hunger, I'd probably forget to cook, or just have a some eggs on toast.

I've tried to develop a style, but I'm not sure if I've been successful. I'm easily influenced by designs around me as well as those from the past. I love Mid Century modern, brutalism, art deco and seem to be heading towards bohemian style and maximalist décor. I love colour and I love texture. I love the process of sketching, looking through books and magazines for inspiration, and filling a sketchbook with collages and painted shapes. But I am quick to give up on a project if it isn't going as planned, or I can't find a particular material/product to finish it (particularly since we've been having "supply chain issues" here in Australia.) It's not uncommon for me to lose focus completely, clear the project away and then come back to it in a few months/years time to try again.

Or I move onto another type of project. I'll pack away the fabric, needles and scissors, clear away the sketchbooks and instead go back to one of my true loves but also my true nemesis- jewellery making.

Let's go way back in time for a moment, shall we? My Uncle Frank (who was actually my great uncle) was a jewellery salesman in the 1950's until he retired sometime in the 1980's. He sold lots of costume jewellery, like strands of Czech glass beads twisted together with ornate clasps, and all kinds of rhinestone brooches, earrings and necklaces. He also sold opal jewellery and ropes of pearls, both faux pearls and real pearls.  The most vivid memory I have of both Uncle Frank and his wife, Aunty Pearl (yes, that was actually her name!) was the house they lived in at Rosebud and the rings that Aunty Pearl wore.

They lived in a cute weatherboard house, up on a hill behind the Rosebud Hotel. This photo was from around 2016 when it was last on the market. Frank & Pearl sold the house in the 90's when they moved up to the warmer climes of Queensland. Because they were my great Aunt & Uncle, they were always old. They had that papery skin when they greeted you with a kiss on the cheek. Uncle Frank had a gruff voice and hair sprouting from his ears. Aunty Pearl was as slight as a bird but wore massive diamonds on almost every finger. They were childless and their house was not made for small children. So while the adults drank tea in the tiny loungeroom with views across the water, my two brothers and I were shooed out to the yard to expend the energy that came from an hour car trip to Rosebud. We would often roll around on the grass in the postage stamp sized backyard, or swing on the rotary clothesline. On one particular visit, we noticed that the door to the storage room under the house was ajar. Being nosey kids, we went inside to peek. The room was stacked to the roof with boxes of costume jewellery. In the small glimpse that I got before we heard Uncle Frank bellowing down the side stairs to get out of there, my mind was blown. It was like an Aladdin's Cave. I wouldn't have been more than 10 years old at the time and that memory  is still as clear as day some 40 years later.

Over the years following, as Frank wound down his business, he gave boxes of stuff to my Mum. When these boxes arrived, it was like Christmas. There were necklace and earring sets, velvet boxes with 9ct gold pendants set with pearls, the occasional opal chip bracelet and the many, many strands of glass and seed bead necklaces. I have a small wooden box filled with screw on rhinestone earrings and some necklaces that I scored from one such box. I always felt so fancy when we had discos and school events that I could wear them to. While Mum kept some of the "good stuff"  like the opals and the good pearls, the majority of the treasures went on to be sold for next to nothing at the Dandenong Trash N Treasure market.

Years later I spied starburst diamante brooches at Antique markets, selling for the big bucks. If only my Mum was a hoarder, like me. (She's the exact opposite.)

I did get lots of broken things, though. I think Mum knew that I liked to play around with broken things to try to make something new, so she gave me boxes of necklaces where the thread was starting to disintegrate, as well as earrings that had lost one of the pair. I also remember the velvet chokers with the cameos and the silver neck rings with the modernist pendant, like something Mary Quant would design. I don't know what happened to those, but I know that it was probably what triggered my love for modernist necklaces that I would find in Op-Shops in my late teens.

So, I took all of those beads and brooches and earrings and chains and stored them in boxes and tins. They moved with me and some days I would just go through them for the sake of nostalgia. Some of the necklaces were disassembled and placed into bags. Although I didn't realise it at the time, I have a thing for sorting beads into colour groups. I'm sure the Internet has a diagnosis for that!

Occasionally, I would restring beads into long necklaces that could be doubled up, or I would remake earrings for pierced ears. (Despite having pearl studs from one of the boxes of jewellery, I wasn't allowed to pierce my ears until I turned 16.)

I kind of viewed them as just another craft supply, but didn't realise until years later that I really enjoyed making necklaces.

Before resin casting was less toxic than it is today, I went into Handcrafts in Prahran and loaded my basket with one jewellery mould and some resin casting supplies. And I began to make jewellery, to sell alongside my handbags. It was messy work and very time consuming, but I loved doing it. I made pendants with pin up girl photos embedded in them. I used broken china and beads and metal components and spent as much time on the stringing method as I did the pendants. 

But once again, a new craft obsession meant that I had to have all the right materials to do the job. I couldn't just go to my local Spotlight and get some nickel plated findings in small quantities. Oh no! I had to go off to the Bead Warehouse and stock up on bulk quantities of clasps, loops, crimps, Tiger Tail, leather cord etc. I must've made back the money I spent on these materials, because I only have a couple of pairs of earrings and one or two necklaces left over from that time. I must have sold the majority of them at the market. Thankfully, the findings that I had left over come in handy when someone breaks a necklace or wants some earrings for a fancy dress party. Looking back through the photos, I realise that some of the images were a bit cringe and could possibly fall into cultural appropriation territory. ( I was heavily influenced by the rockabilly scene. I know better now.)

So why is jewellery making my nemesis? I think it's because each time I go back to it, I get slightly obsessed, I have more ideas than my head can accommodate and I get frustrated when I can't find the supplies to finish whatever I'm working on. I recently needed some rope end caps for the neckpiece that you see at the top of this post. I had bought lead rope in a myriad of colours from a horse rope supplier (again with the impulse purchases on a whiff of an idea), and thought that I had end caps to suit the diameter of the rope. But I had the wrong sizes or the wrong colours and a search of the internet showed nothing that I needed could be purchased in Australia. All of my go-to beading supply sites had limited or no stock, which only left me the option of purhasing from Etsy (which I try not to do if I can help it) or straight from China. But even then, I couldn't be sure that I was getting the right product. I needed to walk in to a store and see it with my own eyes and then determine whether it was what I was after. In the end, I gave up and instead found some old Lovisa necklaces in the op shop, that I intended to use for parts but instead just included as a whole addition.

Each time I tell myself that I want to create something using the materials that I already have and then I go and buy a whole bunch of stuff to finish it off.

Or I see something that I can pull apart and reuse so I buy it (op-shopped) bring it home, it sits on the desk and then I forget what I was going to use it for so it just gets added to the pile of ever growing "will use someday" craft supplies.

Is it FOMO that makes me do this? I don't know.

I had a bunch of beads from old necklaces that I sorted in to colour groups, then pulled out the ones that were interesting shapes and set about making something with them. I made six necklaces, two of which need to be tweaked a little bit. 

But then I lost interest again. My desk is covered in a tray of beads and I look at them, move them around a bit and then walk away. Does this mean it's time to pack the beads away and go back to sewing or needlework? Do I just need to step away from craft completely for a bit and maybe just read a good book? Maybe it's because I'm 51 and I feel like I should have a style or a brand or a passion, but instead I just drift from one thing to the next. I have days where I worry about the amount of clutter I'm accumulating. That if I should shuffle of this mortal coil without having my ducks in a row, my family will be left with the task of getting rid of everything. 

I guess it just is what it is. This is who I am. This is how I function. I don't think I will suddenly become super productive of super organised or whatever. I think I have to just make peace with the fact that my creative brain waxes and wains, and be thankful that I still have the faculties to create when the urge strikes and the room to pack it away when that urge goes away.