Fantastic plastic arms

I was going to put a clever pun in the title of this post, but all I could think of were ones that involved pronouncing 'harmless' without the H, and that just seemed a bit desperate. Not to mention really old.

The fact remains that I am now the proud owner of two arms! (Oh, go on: insert bad joke here.)

Plastic, ex-mannequin arms. I bought them on Trade Me for $28.50 (including postage - bargain!), for the purposes of modelling bracelets.
Next year I am planning to introduce some gorgeous, bohemian cuffs to the Silverlight Jewellery brand, and I knew that I would need some way of modelling them. Wearing the cuffs on my left hand and photographing them with my right proved less than satisfactory, for a number of reasons. So I knew that once again I would have to turn to plastic, and I started searching on Trade Me. I was outbid on the first set of arms I wanted, but a few weeks later I saw these ones, and they were perfect.

The left arm modelling an as-yet unreleased Whiteleaf Jewellery bracelet.

The arms are a very pale nude, almost ivory, in colour - paler than Zara, and smoother in texture. They arrived wrapped in bubble wrap and sticky tape. It was quite easy to see, through the bubble wrap, what was in the parcel. I wonder if it was one of the more unusual packages that New Zealand Post has carried, but I suspect that none of their employees would have batted an eyelid. I'm sure they carry many strange things.

Zara now has some plastic company.

The arms do look a bit weird, propped against the wall in a corner of the room where I have my workspace. Full-length plastic arms, with no mannequin attached to them, casually leaning against the wall.
And now I've just spent an hour or more blogging about plastic arms. 
The things we artists do. 
What's the weirdest piece of equipment that you own?

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A clever self-promotion solution

Many artists find it very difficult to talk positively about their own work. When someone compliments you on your bracelet - which you made and are wearing - what do you say?
Just, "Thanks"? 
Or, "Thanks - I'm really pleased with the way it turned out"? 
Or the self-deprecating and downbeat, "Oh, this old thing? Not my best work, I'm afraid"?

Lots of us, enamoured though we are of our work, become completely tongue-tied when someone compliments it. Starting to talk about ourselves and our art feels a bit too much like bragging or aggressive marketing (yuck!). Yet we don't want that precious compliment to slip away without the giver knowing what it means to us as artists. We want that person to know that they have just complimented not just our tastes, but our work - our art - our souls.
And, of course, we really want them to know where they can get a piece of our work for themselves - and pay us for it ... 

Here is a clever solution from Megan Auman of Crafting An MBA.
Be sure to read some of the comments for further expansion on the idea.
I'm going to use this next time someone compliments a piece of my jewellery. I'll let you know what happens.

statement bracelet by Lapisbeach on Etsy

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Ignorance is power

Some of the world's greatest feats were accomplished by people not smart enough to know they were impossible. 

- Doug Larson 

When I first started trying to make a living as a self-employed jewellery artist, I knew nothing. 

In the following three years, I learned how much I did not know. 

I am now slightly horrified at how ignorant I was, and how little research I did. 

I am also immensely grateful.

If I had known how hard it would be, I might not have done it.

First Light Over Glacier Bay by thechadandhope on Etsy

 The young do not know enough to be prudent, and therefore they attempt the impossible ... and achieve it, generation after generation.
- Pearl S. Buck 

(With thanks to @grapechick for tweeting the Doug Larson quote.)   

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New Whiteleaf design: Ancient Root earrings

These were just listed in my Felt and Zibbet shops.

 Ancient Root earrings: available on Felt and Zibbet

Every now and then I create a design that I'm not sure that I like. I'll make it, and like it; but some time later - usually the next day - I'll look at the design again and not be so sure. Sometimes I vacillate for weeks over a piece of jewellery, liking it one day and wrinkling my nose at it in scepticism the next. Eventually I make a decision, taking one of two lines of thought about it:

either

'If I'm not happy with it, then there must be something wrong with it, so I'll ditch it',

or, 

'If I can't make up my mind, it can't be that bad, so I'll go ahead and list it'.

(You'll notice that even when I'm trying to make a decision, I keep my options open by allowing two potential decisions!) 

These were such a design: I liked them when I made them, but the next day I wasn't sure. They photographed well, but I procrastinated about listing them because I still wasn't convinced that I was happy with them.

Now that I have listed them, however, I have decided that I do like them. They're a tad unusual; even, perhaps, a bit odd; but in a good way - an earthy, 'gnarled old tree' sort of way. And gnarled, wizened, battered old trees can be easily as beautiful as young, fresh, beautifully proportioned trees.

I think that people are the same: there are some beautiful old people around. They have avoided growing truly old; they have an inner youth and joy, and it is from this that their beauty comes. 
Ageing is optional. Stay young forever, so that even when you are old, you will be young and beautiful.

Nobody grows old merely by living a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals. Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul. 

~ Samuel Ullman 

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