The Spectrum Required.

I'm working on a lot of elvish inspired pieces lately, getting items ready for a Middle-earth themed event at the end of September. As I looked at the first piece off my bench in what is to be a long string of pieces between now and then, I was thinking about the delicacy of the lines in nouveau and elvish pieces. But I was also thinking about the six grits of polishing papers I just had to work through in order to get all those hard hammering marks and plier marks off the finished piece. Since I'm still learning, I wasn't actually able to get them all off. There are a few I'll just call characteristics of the piece where I was afraid I'd polish away too much metal if I managed to get them completely flat. I appreciate a nice hammered look, too, so that helps when my inner perfectionist wants to come out and say it's not a perfect mirror surface.

I was thinking about that hammering process. It's brute and violent and raw. I rearrange the molecular structure of the metal when I slam it between a steel bench block and a hammer over and over until round wire spreads out into a thin sheet. Once that is done, I go over it with a file to round off any harsh edges. Again, that's a pretty brutal action of tiny teeth tearing away bits of metal. And then there are the polishing papers. They're softer, more like fabric than sandpaper, but they subtly chew off yet more metal. It starts with a brushed metal look with the 30 micron paper, where I appear to have made more scratches than I've removed. A couple of grits later, it's down to a more satin finish. And finally that high mirror shine appears once I hit the 1.0 micron paper. I don't even need to buff the piece after that, usually. The papers are very effective at refining the results of that brutal hammering and filing process. What I'm left with is this lovely, feminine, delicate form onto which I wrap various beads or gems, depending on the piece.

I live through my pieces. I breathe into them and they teach me as they come to life. I know the feeling of being caught between anvil and hammer. I know the feeling of being struck over and over and reformed into something different than what I was when I started. I know the feeling of being filed down to have harsh edges removed. And I know what it's like to be polished and refined into a mirror. I know what it's like to be simultaneously strong and delicate like my pieces in their final state. When I look at a final piece, I see myself and not just because of that shiny finish reflecting back at me. I see myself because I'm pouring my experiences and my life lessons into each piece.

It takes both the hard hammering and the final delicacy and everything in between to move through this life. I'm so grateful I'm able to create and learn like this at my bench every day.