Yesterday I finished a turquoise pendant, and while I liked it, I didn’t looove it. Feh. I really don’t like selling things I don’t love. And it isn’t always a matter of personal taste which informs my love of a piece. It’s more a feeling of “Got it! Nailed that sucka! Who kicks a little ***? Well, that would be ME!” There is a lot of self-congratulating in my studio when I feel like I really nailed a piece. And it nags at me when I don’t get that feeling.
The pendant was nagging me. I reworked it a bit: I abraded the surface back to a satiny soft sheen, and now I really like the piece. The softer finish allows the pebbly texture of the backpiece to really hold the pendant together, visually, whereas before the high gloss finish distracted.
And now I’m going to go artist on you, so hang tight. When I love a piece, it is often because its look and feel tells a story, and it has a personality of its own. This piece does that for me.
For me? This piece feels like something a ranch-owning, will-of-steel, strong-but-kind woman would wear everyday. She would be beautiful in a simple, natural way, and all the men would just totally dig her, BUT! They’d really respect her, because they knew she was THAT good at what she did. Ranching, that is. And the leather of the necklace would be darkened with wear, and smell a bit like perfume. Because! Even though she’s a rancher and needs to be tough, she’s still feminine. So, there you go.
You can make up your own story about the necklace, if you’d like.
Now that I’ve reworked it, it tells me a story, and that’s when I know who kicks a little ***.