In an (ongoing) effort to combat my "jeweler's ass", I bought a bike last week. Because let's admit it, sitting for extended periods of time at my jeweler's bench isn't the best form of exercise.
As a kid, we practically grew up outside---sloshing through creeks, trekking through woods, catching butterflies in fields---exploring, experiencing, growing. A big part of this involved riding our bikes. At a time when we were still too young to drive cars and unable to own horses, having a bike was a great alternative. You could just hop on and pedal away---leaving your worries behind, if only temporarily---powered by just YOU and your sense of direction. It's an empowering thing, when you think about it.
Flash forward 15 or so years. My parents had recently been cleaning out their garage and doling out childhood items back to my brother and I. It had been years since I had ridden a bike - this was going to be great! The initial excitement about having my old Huffy soon faded when I realized the tires were both flat, the gears rusted, and the brakes dried out and cracked. Old friend, you gave me much happiness, but that chapter has ended.
So I stewed. And stewed. And then decided to get a new bike. Not a cheap Walmart bike, but a real grown-up bike that will last me for years. It's sleek, efficient, and just what I need to explore trails.
I knew that I had missed biking, but I didn't realize HOW much I had missed it until I hit that first downhill coast. You know that feeling you get at the top of a roller coaster when you crest and know that you're about to head down? That delicious anticipation and excitement? And then you're speeding downhill and the wind is whipping your hair and the scenery is blurring past and you're grinning like the biggest idiot alive. THAT. I've missed that.
So instead of slaving away at the stinky claustrophobic gym like a robot this past week, I've been enjoying a healthy dose of inner peace and sunshine. Hell, I even have a little bit of a tan on my lily-white arms. Now this changes everything...
These earrings feature two incredible slabs of chrysocolla stone---the marriage of warm sandy brown to the deep teal veins struck me immediately. I like to let stones like this speak for themselves, so I very simply capped them off using silver solder, oxidized, and left it at that. Long, slender, and serene.
Wising you much peace and much sunshine this week!
Nikki
LoveRoot on Etsy
Think, for a moment, about how many beads, stones, and findings there are out there. Go ahead, I can wait...
...
OK, since this could take a spell, let's just summarize by saying that there are a TON of beads, stones, and findings out there. If you've ever been to any kind of bead show, you'll know what I mean. Now take those hundreds of tables filled with strands and baskets and multiply that by hundreds of thousands. Similarly, one of the beauties of the internet is that each of us in our own little corners of the world can shop for beads and stones from all over the globe. Our taste for supplies is limited only by the girth of our wallet.
All this to say: it can get overwhelming. So many good beads, cool beads, rare beads, stimulating exciting never-before-been-seen beads - how to focus?!
I experienced this shellshocked feeling the first time I went to the Tucson Gem & Mineral show with my dear friend Kimberly Rogers of NuminosityBeads fame. The sheer quantity of product, the teeming masses of people, the sky-high tents, the dollars changing hands hot and fast. Mercy.
That was two years ago. This year I didn't get quite so overwhelmed. I was a highly attuned hunter, knowing the type of thing I wanted and drilling down on it. I purchased with abandon, letting my creative "what if" juices flow. I walked up to booths and already had finished pieces designed in my head before even paying the vendor.
The very best example of this involves a treasure trove of petrified wood slabs that I found. They were matched pairs, about 1" across, had a polished face yet a natural grained edge, and came in all the earth-toned colors of the rainbow: rust, salmon, fawn, cocoa, sable, charcoal, dove, ivory, and cream. I saw them and immediately melted. The crunchy semi-feral wicked earth goddess in me envisioned an edgy metalworked bracelet featuring a handful of these slabs. I knew in my head that it would be a lot of work. But if executed right, it would be worth it. So I bought 15 or so pairs.
Flash forward about four months and the idea had finally marinated enough - it was time for fruition. I sat down a couple weeks ago and created a whole line of petrified wood pieces, all set in gnarly sterling silver pronged open-back bezels. That includes this pair of earrings. Deceptively simple, humble, yet soulful. These slices use to be alive - think about that! I've been smitten and fighting the urge to jealously hoard the rest of them to myself.
So, all of this extended rambling to say, every now and then while swimming through the vast sea of components out there, you will find a special something that speaks volumes. It may only speak to you; it may speak to many. But when you find those special somethings, they can be more precious than gold.
Happy Wednesday!
Nikki
LoveRoot on Etsy
In an (ongoing) effort to combat my "jeweler's ass", I bought a bike last week. Because let's admit it, sitting for extended periods of time at my jeweler's bench isn't the best form of exercise. 
So I stewed. And stewed. And then decided to get a new bike. Not a cheap Walmart bike, but a real grown-up bike that will last me for years. It's sleek, efficient, and just what I need to explore trails. 
So instead of slaving away at the stinky claustrophobic gym like a robot this past week, I've been enjoying a healthy dose of inner peace and sunshine. Hell, I even have a little bit of a tan on my lily-white arms. Now this changes everything...
