Odd things happen when you’re not paying attention. It all began when the man who shares my pillow each night asked me to bead him a hatband. How hard could that be? I thought. Even kids can bead.
As it turned out it was a lot harder than I imagined. And a lot more fun. By the time that hatband was finished I was a gonner — I’d fallen hook, line and bauble for beads.
My jewelry is designed to be different. Most of it is one-of-a-kind. My “style,” if I have one, is eclectic, ranging from earthy to elegant, casual to classy. I strive to make pieces that complement both the person and the occasion.
None of my work is done on a loom. Each bead is individually woven into the design. It’s a time-consuming process but one that yields beautiful results.
Recently I’ve begun incorporating wire and metal pieces into my work. A new adventure for me with all sorts of possibilities for design.
My inspiration often comes from the outdoors where I spend much of my time. Wandering the woods, hiking the desert, strolling along a beach — all the shapes and colours and designs you might imagine can be found in such places.
Me, in the scheme of things? If life is a book, I’m now into the chapter titled Beading. Previous chapters in this story go from A (artist’s model) to Z (zoologist). In between there’s teacher, writer, editor, broadcaster, community organizer, tree hugger, volunteer, hiker, RVer.
As with any book, you don’t leave parts of the story behind when you move into a new section. So all that I was (and in many cases still am) comes right along with me when I bead.
I have no formal training as a beader. No art school courses. No diploma in design. No degrees or certificates or awards. One day I simply picked up some beads and began.
Which is pretty much how I live my life. I just seem to find myself at a point where it’s more fun to jump into the deep end of the pool than paddle around the edge.