So some of the talented and friendly folks at one of my forums do a group blog post (maybe monthly?) and thought I might give it a try, if they are nice enough to include my lameness. At the bottom of the post, I think I will be getting links to everybody else's post eventually.

The blog post topic is: What got you into metalsmithing initially?

Here's a shot:

CHRONOLOGY OF OUR JEWELRY BUSINESS
(Marcus is the husband, Amy the wife.)

YEAR ONE:  We purchased some rock hounding and cutting equipment.  We started selling beads and jewelry using cut and polished rocks from around our home in Oregon.  Oregon has really cool rocks.  We sold at a local market.  Oregon also has two or more really cool Saturday Markets.  Do a search engine search for Eugene Saturday Market.

YEAR TWO: Don't really remember.

YEAR THREE: Still a bit foggy.

YEAR FOUR:  We began to do more arts and crafts and fine arts shows from Northern Washington to San Francisco where Marcus' silver and stone jewelry did well.  Marcus started making more sterling silver jewelry with hand cut stones.  We bought some metal casting equipment so that we could duplicate our designs and not starve.

YEAR FIVE:  Marcus bought a computer and made a website to sell our jewelry online.  Amy's beaded stuff did ok, but Marcus' stuff did not, primarily because our website really stunk.

YEAR SIX:  We started selling Amy's beaded stuff exclusively off our website, and Marcus stopped doing out of town shows since being on the road really freaked him out.  Marcus spent his time managing and improving the beaded jewelry website and advertising said website.

YEAR SEVEN: Ditto

YEAR EIGHT and NINE: Ditto

YEAR TEN:  Marcus was in the garage trying to find his polishing stuff to clean up a pair of beaded earrings.  Rummaging through all the jewelry equipment just piled to the ceiling, he decides to start making silver jewelry again.  Marcus then puts some of his silver work on Etsy.  He then writes this bio.


(That was all a couple of years ago.)

Disclaimer:  The above dates are probably way off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Check out everybody else's post, I will!

SilverBlueberry
SerpentsDance
Valerie @ LilyEmme
All Wired Up Jewelry Designs
Kalicat Jewelry Designs
Kim Bell
Beatriz Fortes

Standing on the soggy, flower strewn bank.
"I must have flowers," she said.

The water.
The rolling, curling current.
"The water! that is it," she thought
(She has tasted the brackish water for us.)
Explored, noted, struggled.
(And one must not forget these sacrifices.)

Choking, gasping breathing in the unfamiliar atmosphere.
'Surely I knew it must be thus; must need be strong'
Feel the firm maternal grip, the pull.

"The rocks lay just so," she said,
watching a thin layer of sediment
pass slowly over the river bottom.

The child stands by the ride at the fair. The air is a cloud of laughter and screams. The sweet flavor of a thousand thousand voices. The day has been everything it promised to be, and more. The ride whizzes by, blowing the child's hair back in it's monstrous wake. For one brief moment the entire universe affirms, "Child, You are alive!"

The ancient tree looked down obstinately at the fresh young vine as it was beginning to make its way up the tree's weathered bark.

 "Why should I let you live?" asked the old tree.

"There is great peace of mind in the smallest act of empathy," replied the vine.

a little bird left a tiny footprint in the snow,
as if it knew precisely where i would have to look

it would have been easier to take farther out
where i could visit from time to time

but now there is no going in or out
without being reminded of its tiny beating heart

and it takes so long for snow to melt

unrelenting time
crippling blinding fierce creature
deep breath. all is well

all i remember is icy fingers of ecstasy
crawling in my head
a black and white instance of a warm, moist summer
in a forgotten bubble of childhood memories
through impossibly long, sepia-tinted spaces
where every stain and knot was an aberration
and hot drafts made curtains
stand on end
...
waiting for release
...
and exhale.

where closets float over wooden floors
and private thoughts smelled of mothballs.
where dreams fit into a hat boxes,
and secrets lay in faded snapshots -
dark smiles, stained through and sinister

i thought there would be time
between the second and third crow -
beyond the immortality of youth

past the moment where golden locks
and sweet smiles change the world
where all things broken are repaired

"Consequences? To the devil with your consequences," Dr G exclaimed, throwing a large casting flask against the laboratory wall. "All of these flasks are too small! Order me the 4.5 inchers -- No, wait... five inch flasks! By the gods I shall have five inchers and utilize every shred of casting space!"

"Well, what are you waiting for?" he asked, turning and glaring at his assistant.

"Heaven help us," replied his assistant, bowing in acknowledgment and slinking away.