when i first began this part of my journey, quitting my Big Girl job to take care of life events, I was nervous. no - nervous isn't the right word, but my head was swirling with thoughts, ideas, plans, hopes, and wondering how i would put it all together. every morning, i'd enter my studio, approach my worktable and say a prayer of gratitude for the time and materials and ability to make art. no matter how frustrated i was with a piece, or how desolate my creative landscape felt...i always performed that ritual from the heart...i was grateful for the flow...i was grateful for the creativity block, already finding the joy to come when the ideas would come fast and furious...i was thankful for having plenty-and-enough...and for those who were my mentors and teachers and friends and cheerleaders...i asked that blessing be spilled onto them more than they could hope for...standing there in awe of the gifts i've been given, oftentimes became the art - i would get so wrapped up in the thankfulness, that to continue on to my brushes and gel medium and rusty metal and sterling would seem less important than the soul work i had just done. sort of like presenting a beautifully decorated birthday cake to a 1-year old and watching him smash his hand through the frosting. it would ruin the spirit of the moment. so i would step back and release the day to become what it would. there was often some magic waiting outside the studio that would have been missed, had i continued as usual. days became weeks became months, and the gratitude, although still present, became a misty fog as schedules and deadlines and designs occupied my thoughts. till yesterday, when i took a moment to rest my hands and read some haiku...it reawakened that part of my spirit that reminded me to give thanks first...that nothing can succeed without the gratitude for the opportunity. and i felt a bit ashamed and admonished for letting dust bunnies grow a bit in the corners of my inner sacred place...to say "thank you," as i hurried to the jewelry bench was not sufficient. in order to create the work i want to create - have to create - there must be a soul to it...there must be that which touches people...a purpose to it besides adornment...the piece, each piece, must have it's story and it's power...i've never made 2 identical pieces...each time i pick up the hammer or wire or gemstones, the piece will evolve on it's own...colors will dance next to each other in combinations i would never have imagined...textures and materials come alive - grounding, earthy wood next to soulful copper...flashes of infinity bouncing off faceted stones that were once part of the earth... carved talisman beads of skulls, reminding us to respect and learn from ancestors...it all sings together and in an orderly way, if i first stop and meet gratitude in an honest, deep, and authentic way. My bench area is one of the smallest task areas in my studio. i have bright task lighting in the form of photographer's lights in front of me, and to the left side, illuminating the tiny crimps and twists i need to make. those are the only lights i turn on in the studio, and it makes the area cozy and focused and special. today, i spent time in gratitude...i stopped before my bench and gave thanks for the materials and opportunities to share the work of my hands...i de-scheduled an art & craft festival i was to participate in, as there would not be time to make work that was truly from a sacred place, and in that moment of decision, felt a return to the place of true thankfulness and flow and authenticity and of spirit. today, i wish for you that deep feeling of gratitude for the thing you despise most in your life. may you be blessed, and may magic happen today for you. thank you for showing up here, and listening to the ramblings of my day-to-day.