When Life Gives You a Mini Cake, Eat the Whole Damn Thing //

On days like these, I make sure I'm ready. I know the day will be blissful, and so I make sure I have everything in order. 

My coffee and pickle are equally hot. 

My favorite Pandora station is on. 

The studio is clean and organized. 

What awaited me was all the hard work from a late night the evening before. 

All the leaves were ready, the sawing and texturing done. 

This morning was going to be epic. and I couldn't wait to complete this ring that I had been dreaming about for the past few days. 

Magic was going to happen.

Although the first few attempts at soldering could have gone more to plan, I failed to see any red flags. I kept pushing, adjusting, making it right. 

Finally as all the the elements came together. 

Just as all the elements were soldered on, I took a step back to looked at what I had created.

It was then that I realized I had made a god damn mini wedding cake.

Progress shot.

The first tier so perfectly round. 

Topped with lovely fondant leaves and gum paste flowers. 

I can almost taste the sugary sweet buttercream now. 

At first I was a little frustrated. The hours I spent on this thing were too numerous and too sad to count now. 

In the past, I would have let this thing eat me alive. I would have pouted for days at my design choices. I would have questioned my ability as an artist. I would have sunk into a serious slump.

 But I didn't, and I'm glad I didn't.

Instead I posted it, for sale. I was ready to move on to the next thing, not dwell in the past.

I also allowed myself the freedom to joke about my little cake ring, imagining it sitting beautifully on the table as Barbie & Ken exchange vows. 

What surprised me about it all was the response I got. 

Messages, emails and texts came pouring in:

I was too hard on myself.

It was still gloriously beautiful.

They didn't see it as a cake.

----

First off, let me say, it is absolutely a mini cake. I mean seriously, this isn't even an argument.

Secondly, I never said it wasn't beautiful.

In fact it IS beautiful because of so many reasons.

Sterling and Turquoise...

YUM.

Oxidized and slightly polished...

YUM. 

Heavily textured and detailed...

YUM.

Mini cake...

YUM.

Thirdly, it's ok that it's a freaking cake. 

Because what I have learned over the years is that it's all ok. 

Not to take it all so seriously. 

To live lightly and freely and less dramatic. 

No matter what is happening in your life, it's all ok.

It'll all work out.

Mini cakes.

Mini dramas.

Big dramas.

They all work out.

Tomorrow I'll be a better designer because of this. Plus I secretly love it now for what it reminded me of. 

That it's ok for things to go wrong.

That I don't have to be perfect.

That sometimes I'm going to make stuff that doesn't go as planned.

And when this inevitably happens again, that I make something that frustrates the hell out of me, I'm going to eat that cake too, and the next one and the next one.

Because when life gives you a mini cake, I highly suggest you eat the whole damn thing.

♥  Carin 

P.S. The mini cake ring has found a home. With a wonderful lovely supporter who will cherish it for all it's mini-cake qualities and more. 

Makers for Makers /// A Blog Feature

I'm so incredibly honored to be up on the Sea of Atlas blog today! An incredible space created for makers by makers. I deeply believe in the community aspect of this creative life, and hope my words help inspire others on their creative journey. Please go check out the Makers for Makers series here. 

Confessional - A Part of The Journey

I could start by telling you a slew of excuses. 

I could tell stories about me as a child. I could tell you I've always struggled fitting in. 

I could blame it on my situation.

I could tell you how I've never really felt like I was an artist.

I could tell you that for most of my life I equated success with money.

I could chalk it up to me being self taught.

I could bring up a million more things that played into the beginning years of my work.

But I won't. 

I need to own this.

Because it's my fault.

It's was my responsibility.

It was my decisions and ultimately my actions.

My misstep, correction missteps, are many.

Small choices that seemed insignificant at the time, but grew into something unmanageable.

It started years ago, when I first ever desired to be a maker.

To be a maker full time.

To live and breath this work. 

I wanted so bad to be "successful."

I looked up to so many amazingly talented artists and wondered how in the world I would ever get there. 

Or if I was even capable of getting there. 

I read everything there was to read on how to make a shop successful. 

I thought I was doing all the right things.

I saw the formula so many Etsy sellers followed, and I tried to follow it.

Good pictures.

Accurate listing descriptions.

Strict policies.

Business licenses.

Insurance.

Calculating profit margins.

Marketing strategies.

But even more than that.

I worked hard on developing a brand that was popular.

And that would sell.

Because ultimately that's where my heart was.

To be "successful."

Somewhere along the way that person that desired to be a maker, to be an artist got lost.

The business side of things took over. 

And the money, the "success" became so much more important.

I was so tangled up in a web that I couldn't see out. 

I celebrated the number of sales.

Carefully tracked every follower.

Tried to figure out how and why people viewed or purchased my pieces.

I made unforgivable and disrespectful choices.

Disrespectful to the art, the artists, and to you.

I found myself sitting at my bench not asking myself what I wanted to make or what the material called me to make, but instead what would sell. 

At first I was proud of the work. I felt instant gratification and it fed the greed monster inside me.

I wanted to sell more, be more well known, and I wanted more than anything for my work to be desired.

Overtime I felt my creative spirit shrivel. I felt stuck and stifled.

I knew something had to change, but I was so scared.

So scared I wasn't capable of being that good.

I wanted my art to be loved, but it was at the cost of making stuff that wasn't authentic.

And it was wrong.

I woke up one day, and took a long look in the mirror and didn't recognize myself. 

I was ashamed.

I don't want to ever see that person again.

I'm fighting back.

I've seen my mistakes.

I'm owning them.

And I'm moving past it. 

I'm putting the art first no matter the cost.

This beginning, it was rocky, but it's just part of my story.

I believe my ending is true and pure. 

At the end of  my career I want to be able to look back on my work and be proud.

I want to be a leader and not a follower.

I want to be respectful and respected.

I want to give to this community not take from it.

I realize to do all those things take brave choices.

Takes courage and vulnerability.

So I'm here, completely open, exposed and vulnerable.

I'm asking for your forgiveness.

and maybe one day, I'll be an artist.

♥ Carin

AVAILABLE UNTIL SOLD HERE.

Homechum

Maybe this is the story of my life.

Maybe it's the story of the salmon.

Maybe it's both.

I say I've lived in this magical place my whole life.

A place where the snowy mountains meet the sea. 

Where the trees create a landscape so green and so thick it's hard to see past it.

To be honest, growing up, I wanted nothing more than to leave. 

At the time, this place felt too small for the gigantic dreams I wanted to fill. I felt suffocated and trapped.

As a young adult, I only saw what this place couldn't offer and none of what it could.

I saw it's downfalls and little potential.

Mostly, I think my body had changed and so had my heart.

I was no longer that little fry that needed the protection offered by the stream.

I was ready to explore. 

I first tried the luscious views of Upstate New York. I landed as the golden deciduous trees were dropping their leaves. 

Almost as far away from this home as possible, I was eager to adventure. 

I wanted to see who I was away from everything I had known. 

I was ready to test my crazy thoughts and theories on the unsuspecting world. 

New York was beautiful.

This is really where I fell in love with hiking.

Gushing waterfalls.

Fingerlakes.

I tasted it all.

And for a moment I felt happy.

No,

I was happy.

The space, that's what I needed at the time.

To explore.

To experience.

A new adult in a massive ocean.

I left the Atlantic, only a few years later to find myself again in the North Pacific,

but this time in Alaska.

A place as gorgeous, if not more than home. 

The land full of texture and color.

Spewing life from every pore. 

I saw majestic white belugas dancing their way through the Cook Inlet.

I played on ice cold blue glaciers.

And to this day I will tell you that I long to go back to where the spit extends a mile from the land. Narrow as ever, just enough land to call it a place. 

Saltwater surrounding you, but where it misses, the gap is filled in by snow capped peaks. 

Halibut a story tall, hung up and ready for eating. 

Homer, AK is in my heart.

But all these sights I've seen. 

Places I've lived.

Memories I've made.

They were never home.

The moment I leave this place, the Pacific Northwest, and step out on a new land, may it be long term or even for a short trip, I immediately feel called home.

My body feels unsettled, almost visibly shaky. 

Something is out of place, 

I am out of place.

My mind often wanders, and I find it thinking about home.

I guess that's how I know. 

Funny how understanding works sometimes, learning by trial and error.

You spend your whole life experiencing where you don't belong, only to realize all you needed you had all along. 

Where you started.

Where it all began.

And so, like a spawning salmon answering a call from within.

Not a conscious thought, but rather something deeper.

A story written on their DNA. Bound to happen because of who they are.

Just like the chum, returning to the stream to spawn, I return home.

And when my feet are firmly planted on this ground, gone away is the restlessness.

In it's place a calming sense of peace.

A huge weight lifted off my shoulders.

Home brings an overwhelming sense of belonging.

And now, when I look up and see that glorious mountain peeking over the horizon, I believe it's mine.

And in return, I am it's.

We belong together. 

The same for my ocean.

The same for my home.

_____

These pieces were dreamt up while I was away.

They were sketched and the ideas solidified while I was on a plane soaring towards home.

They were forged right where I belong.

An understanding of exploration.

A gift of belonging.

A celebration of home. 

Shop here.

♥ Carin

On Trusted Wings... a Second Season

A few months ago I finished my first On Trusted Wings piece.

It sat with me in the studio for a long while.

I didn't show her to anyone. 

I was in a magical trance. 

A harmonious dance between spirit and self.

Between art and artist. 

--

After a few days I allowed myself to wonder what other pieces this eagle shape would adorn.

What shape it would take, and what it was capable of creating. 

A few more pieces were born of it, and then it fell quite for awhile.

They stopped speaking to me as loudly or as clearly. 

Maybe I allowed life to get the best of me.

Chaos ensued, and I didn't have the real time these pieces demanded.

So I listed and sold the first batch of the On Trusted Wings series <---- read about the motivation behind the original work here. 

--

As soon as I listed them, I regretted it.

Not because I was sad to see them find homes, not that pieces themselves weren't magnificent, but I knew that I should have dug deeper.

There was more to it.

There was still a spark. They were talking, maybe in a whisper, but they had important things to say.

I felt like the series was half done.

Half visited.

Half explored.

Half assed.

--

So although a little discombobulated (as life seems to be at times).

I finished the series. 

It took a second season, but they are beautiful just the same.

♥ Carin

shop here. 

Challenge Accepted

It's my first day back in the studio after the Holiday season. 

It always feels a little off to switch gears. When I first go on break I miss the studio. Soon enough though, I'm busy decorating, baking, celebrating, and then life seems to fill in the gaps. 

It is similar when I come back to the studio. I feel out of rhythm. I have a thousand ideas, but no real priority. No task list. Just time. 

I'm still in my end of the year reflectional mind set. I think back to last year, and I frequently felt as though I was in a creative rut. 

Mini ruts. 

but ruts none the less. 

I kept finding myself saying, "If I just had this tool" or "these stones" or "if I just knew how to do this." 

OK, I love me some tools, but ultimately it's not the tools or the stones limiting me. 

It's me limiting me.

It's me not opening up to the possibilities.

Not seeing all that is there. 

So this year, I've taken on a creative challenge. Something to help lubricate my creativity. Spark my ideas, and keep everything flowing smoothly. 

The challenge is to create a single earring every day of the  year. 

Yes, one earring (not a matched pair).

365 of them, all different!

I was nervous at first. This is so out of my realm. The business side of me thinks of all that I could be accomplishing on my "to-do" list rather than playing around. 

But my heart knows I need this. 

So I've accepted the challenge!

Because of my hesitation to start, I had to play a little catch up today. 

I was amazed at how good it felt.

To not worry about how they would turn out.

If they would sell. 

How to price them.

How to market them.

All of the business bullshit just flew out the window. 

I felt free again. Free to create what I was feeling at the moment. 

My only other addition to the challenge requirements, is that I'm going to do my best to use bits and pieces laying around the studio. I have lots of 1/2 started projects or items that are leftovers from other pieces.

Since my frustration last year felt like I always needed more, this year, I'm going to attempt to find the beauty in what I have around me.

There is plenty if I just open my eyes and see it for what it is. 

This will also be a great way for me to test new ideas and find new avenues for my art. 

I'm so excited for the journey this challenge will bring in 2015. 

_____

Find the items listed in my Etsy shop here: https://www.etsy.com/shop/jonesingforjewelry?section_id=16573805&ref=shopsection_leftnav_5

Find other artist's Earring a Day Challenge work here, and a huge shout out to Victoria Takahashi for setting this all up! 

Diana Alexander 

Natalia Araya 

Erin Austin 

Kirsten Denbow  

Sophia Georgiopoulou 

Louise Hunter 

Evelyn Markasky 

Nancy Nearing 

Nikki Rees 

Debbie Ritchie  

Anna Severina Fell 

Ponsawan Silas 

Kirsten Skiles Ross 

Victoria Takahashi 

Mary Lu Wason 

Sara Westermark 

Sara Wilbanks 

♥  Carin

Cultivate Positivity

Many of you read my recent post about continuing to swim, despite the challenges, working hard and never giving up.

I feel like I've continued to choose to not give up, but having a hard time making any real progress.

I have been putting the effort in.
It's never been about the effort.

It's about the rewards and what is being produced from all the effort. That is where my frustration lies.

In the past, a little effort has pushed the a business a long way. Right now it feels more like sprinting on a treadmill. No matter how much effort I put in, I'm not going anywhere.

So last week I spent some time wondering how I can be more productive. See more rewards with the same amount of effort.

As always, nature had the answer.

Recently, I've been letting such negative energy enter my space. Negative thoughts about myself and my abilities.
Words and ideas that are far too harsh for anyone to be having.

And then I realized, when a seed is planted in such harsh, infertile ground very little will grow.
Just like poor soil, I was planting my ideas and putting all my energy into growing in a bad pasture.
My negative energy and thoughts were smothering any good ideas I was having. And no matter how much energy I was putting in, now matter how hard I was trying, growing something in that type of environment rarely reaps rewards.

To benefit from a bountiful harvest, I needed to be planting my seeds in a nutrient rich and fertile ground. Planting here, will set me up for success. My energy and effort will not be wasted, and the chances of growing something beautiful surrounded by good and positive energy are astounding.

And so I cleaned....
... literally and figuratively.

I spent the weekend in my studio cleaning and organizing every square inch. Getting rid of any unwanted or old stuff that I no longer use, and made a ton of space for new work and tools.  Now when an idea comes, I can be much more productive.

In the same way, I gave myself some breathing room.
I cleared out all the negative thoughts and energy I was having.
I gave each idea one last glance, and then let them go.

 By clearing out old baggage, I cultivated space for new things.
New life, new ideas, new positive energy.

These earrings were born from this idea.

Large hoop like earrings. I resisted the urge to fill the void in the middle with anything.

You may see an empty hole in the middle,
but I see space for goodness to be planted. 

May you too clear out any negative energy, and only make room for good. 

Cultivate positivity.

Earrings available here. 

♥ Carin

Shop Small

I'm joining the bandwagon to get the word out about shopping small!

Every gift you buy this holiday season is really 2.  The obvious, the person you are gifting the item to, but there is a less noticeable first one. That is to the person you are buying from. 

Every purchase you make from an artist or small business is like a little present for them. The money and support is directly used to pay their bills and put food on the table. 

The alternative, buying from a big corporation is like giving a present to someone on Santa's extremely naughty list. Even the jolly old man himself would only give them coal.

So make the decision.

Join the movement.

Make the effort. 

Happy Holidays.

♥ Carin