(This post is inspired by one on Tamra Gentry’s Blog a while back about looking at other people’s jewellery; go on over there and have a root around…)

Inspiration can be found in many places, and often at times when you aren’t really looking for it.  Some of my favourite sources of inspiration are street furniture and iron gratings. Here are some of the inspirational things I’ve seen recently when I walked around with my gaze towards the ground (I know it sounds a bit odd, but just check these out!).

Street Metal 1

Street Metal 2

Street Metal 3

Street Metal 4

Street Metal 5

The idea here is not to be too hung up on the surroundings – after all, this is working street furniture which is driven over, rained on, walked upon, and otherwise ignored.

The patterns serve a number of purposes:

1) they make the surface less slippery, provide something for wheels to grip on;

2) they identify the owner or the manufacturer (these were pictured in Carcassonne, in southern France; British manhole covers have different patterns). BTW there is also Carcassonne the board game, which I can’t remember if I won or not last time I played it…

3) they make it more interesting to look where you’re putting your feet (okay, I made this one up…)

However, SOMEONE had to design these things. The ironmaster didn’t just open up the mould one morning and go “Hey, look, there’s a regular geometric pattern on this one, zut alors, I wonder how that happened…” Although there is a tendency for modern versions to be a bit on the boring side (like #4 above – the disc shape is about the size of a beermat, and the grating itself is bigger than an A2 sheet of paper).

I’m not the first to notice these either, and they have even been made into wall hangings and T-shirt designs. There’s a whole group dedicated to them on Flickr. There’s more on Google, and on Drainspotting (that’s such a cool name it had to have a link of its own!).

More to come – Inspiration #2 for example…

West Bristol Arts Trail 2009 is happening this coming weekend, and I will be taking part!

A small sample of the Klimt pieces will be on display (and for sale) in Clifton Rocks for this weekend only, so make sure you pop in and have a look if you’re in the area.

Here’s a taster of the jewellery I’ve put into the gallery:

Klimt Pendant with aventurine

Klimt Suite of pendants & earrings

More information on the West Bristol Arts Trail can be found at their website.

This is the first time I’ve taken part in anything like this so I’m looking forward to the results.  You can find my Klimt jewellery in Happy Island as well.

While I work on a long post about the amazing Staffordshire Hoard, I thought I’d add a shortie with a few links.

Make sure you know what you’re getting when you buy gemstones: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/business/8284941.stm

Further to the last post about being endlessly creative: http://creativeeveryday.com/

One of the many interesting blogs on Ganoksin: http://businessofcraft.ganoksin.com/blogs/

And another – this one about gemstones and settings: http://taogem.ganoksin.com/blogs/

More later, off now to look at Anglo-Saxon metalwork!

Is it possible to be endlessly creative? Always coming up with new designs, or fresh takes on an old one, or blogging with quality content.

Unlike drawing/painting/quilting/dressmaking, jewellery-making is one creative outlet that I’ve put in the 10,000 hours of practice upon.  It has taken quite a few years (make that decades). Jewellery isn’t my day job, nor is it my only hobby. (If perhaps I sat still long enough to focus on one thing, I might have more success at it… or at least find time to do some housework.)

I come up with blog posts on my walk to work, or during the time it takes to stand in the queue at the coffee shop. (Magnus Mills, Booker shortlisted author, drives a bus.) Likewise, when I’m walking to work, I spot things by the side of the road – bicycle disc brakes, pelican crossing buttons, shards of brake light covers; streetlamps, cat’s eyes, trees, stones, graffiti. All with shapes and intersections which can be the inspiration for a new design.

Back to the creativity question. If I took a week off the day job and all the rest of my hobbies, would I have the discipline to spend that time making jewellery? (yeah, I reckon – hehe). What about writing blog posts, or weeding the garden, or tidying my workbench?

We all have days when we’re feeling bored, tired and uncreative. If you’re holding down a demanding day job that takes up most of your time and energy (and if it pays your bills, I reckon it should take up a good proportion of your energy), sometimes the last thing you want to do is more work, even if it’s something you enjoy.  I know this is a particular problem for most working women, and I’m fortunate that I have an understanding partner and no kids or pets to look after.

But what if I had no day job? What would I do with all those extra hours if I had no discipline or framework? The last time I was in that situation was years ago, and I know that many more people are asking themselves the same questions right now, when faced with redundancy or downsizing.  In that situation, sometimes you can’t see the point in getting up. It can be frustrating and depressing, and I reckon having a hobby or other creative outlet that you really look forward to, especially if it pays for itself or demands only your time, can help to keep you positive.

One thing I discovered in my first permanent job, which helped me through subsequent “periods of imposed leisure”, was the book  “What Colour Is Your Parachute?”. It’s been around for a long time (with regular updates), and while many others have been along since, the Parachute Book is still the tome that stops the kitchen table wobbling, if you get my drift.

I can’t remember if I ever finished it. I certainly didn’t own a copy of my own. But the central tenet of the book is to have alternatives to your principal paid employment, so that if (when?) your job is cut, you have some sort of backup.  Support networks of people you can call, and not just friends or family, but contacts who might help you back into work. There are many suggested sources of these, and they take a while to build up. The book was first published long before the internet appeared, and social networking wasn’t something you could log on to.

So if you find yourself with that extra time on your hands, take up a new hobby (or revive an old one). Volunteer at a local museum. Join a social history group to go into old folks’ homes and record their tales of what life was like for them back when they were children. Share a little time with others. Be creative. Every day.

Recently returned from the Assay Office, and deposited in Happy Island – but not before I had the chance to buff her up and take a few photos.

(This is a technical post about tube! Check out more pictures on Flickr.)

This is the original Tubular Belle – a design suggested by the shape of the charoite and the serendipitous gift of an amethyst from Patricia.

Pendant in silver, amethyst, charoite

Yes, the snake chain moves through the bends in the tubing so that the silver thorns at the bottom can be played with, sliding up and down but not through the tube.

Looks like an insect from this angle, but it lets light into the stone, so you can see more of the stone when you’re wearing it, and it removed a flaw in the bezel which split along the solder seam while I was setting the stone.

Pendant in silver, amethyst, charoite

The tubing was bent and cut to shape by hand using the method described here, then I marked up the angles on the join. (Having studied engineering drawing at school still comes in handy sometimes!)  I soldered the joins together and smoothed off the now-kinked tube, then attempted to force the snake chain through. In vain.

This first angle was much too steep for the snake chain, which only has a certain amount of flexibility. Silk or leather thonging went through, partly, and for a long time I debated whether to use one of those instead.

In the end, once I’d soldered the tubes to the two parts which hold the stones, I realised that thong or silk just wouldn’t do the work justice. It had to be snake chain.

At the time, the solution seemed like a compromise and an adaptation of a job poorly planned in advance, but it works. From a short distance it’s invisible.

Techie bit: I drilled a gap between the tubes where they join, to reduce the angle at which the snake chain passes through the tubes. If you look closely you can see the chain, but you must be v-e-r-y close. Most people won’t get that close to you, and if they do, they probably aren’t interested in your jewellery by that point