The Maker Wars

As promised, the next installment of my Steampunk adventure. 

 CHAPTER ONE 

~ THE INVENTOR'S COIL ~

Saint Obispo. A small coastal town situated atop pink and honey colored granite cliffs rising from the Great Green Sea, it boasted the largest number of Inventors and Makers Colleges per capita of all the towns and villages in Calidonia. The stone and wood buildings glimmered a warm pink and honey in the sunshine, a pale echo of the cliffs where the city so proudly stood. Here, the citizens of Saint Obispo felt they were safe for they were protected as much by the cliff-side inaccessibility as they were by the firm but benevolent rule of King Pendragon. 

Saint Obispo was the jewel in Pendragon’s crown for the Makers and Inventors coming from her Colleges were the best, brightest, and most talented in his kingdom. It was also the epicenter of the king’s intelligence gathering society, the FS&GS or the Fellowship of Seers & Guardians Society. And, lately, what they’d had to say had the king worried. 

Near the outer edge of the town, on the side away from the cliffs, was a small, well kept, middle-class suburb. The homes here looked both well-loved and well-lived in. Small, steam powered wagons were parked in front of some of the homes and each home had well-oiled gears to assist in opening and closing shutters or storm doors on the rare occasions the weather turned to hurricanes. At the moment, steam belched gently from the steam stacks of several homes where folks were working on their daily chores.

One home in the middle of this bucolic suburb stood out as markedly different. It, too, had well-tended lawns and oiled gears on shutter and door. It, too, had steam belching from its numerous steam stacks but there was nothing gentle about most of them. Steam shot out at a near shriek from several of the metal pipes emerging at odd angles from the roof and even a couple of the cottage walls. Loud noises could be heard from deep within the house at any time of the night or day, although enough neighbors had complained they needed their sleep that the owner tried hard to dampen the noises after 9 o’clock of the evening. Still, they didn’t always stop completely. He was lucky his neighbors were actually a fairly good humored lot and, also luckily for him, inclined to ignore the worst of the owner’s peccadillos as he was a Master Inventor and he tended to ask them to test his inventions before they hit the market. 

It was before this house a King’s Messenger rode up in a non-descript, steam-powered Delivery Wagon. He looked like nothing more than a run-of-the-mill package delivery man and no one who saw him would ever guess otherwise. He parked and stared at this cottage a moment in concerned wonder. This was where His Royal Majesty wanted him to Deliver? One of the steam stacks loosed a piercing whistle and the Messenger nearly tripped as he was climbing down from his wagon. He glanced around but no one came running to see what had happened or what caused the noise so he had to believe this… this… sound was a normal enough occurrence for them that they tended to ignore it when it happened. Shaking his head, he went to the rear of his wagon and lifted out his crated Delivery, then turned and sauntered casually to the front door.

Just as he lifted his hand to knock he heard another high-pitched whistle, like steam makes escaping a crack just before an explosion, and he ducked reflexively. Rather than an explosion, he heard the sound of someone loudly berating wood, steam, gears, and Inventing in general, all accompanied by the sounds of loud thuds and slams as the whistle slowly abated. Still startled, but with a job to do, the Messenger cleared his throat, raised his hand once more, and knocked firmly on the door before him.

“No! I don’t want any more cookies!” Hollered a muffled but definitely masculine and highly irritated voice from within. The same one that had, moments ago, been expounding on the follies of Inventing. “Nor do I have anything to donate. Go away! I’m busy!”

Blinking in confusion the Messenger hesitated, then glanced around. Seeing no one nearby he knocked again, more firmly than before. A loud *clang* sounded from within followed by a complete and heavy silence for several long moments. This silence was followed by a rhythmic clomping that got progressively louder before stopping on the other side of the door. The door was abruptly yanked open and the Messenger found himself confronted by a scowling man of average height with light brown hair high-lighted by streaks of white and strawberry blond, some of which stood out as if he'd run a hand through it in distraction. He was scowling at the Messenger through a pair of gold, round, wire rimmed glasses which perched on the end of what could only be described as an inquisitive nose. His white and brown goatee fairly quivered with irritation as he demanded “Well? What!”

“I… the… there’s…” the Messenger, for the first time in his exemplary career for the King, found himself at a loss. The man wasn’t intimidating in and of himself, but the pure irritation at being interrupted seemed to emanate from him like a physical blow. He spoke again.

“Unless you’re selling Thin Mints, you are not welcome here. State your business and be gone or I will assist you in your going.” he barked.

The Messenger noticed the man had his left hand on a lever and some sort of Armtraption on his right arm. It appeared to be weaponized, what with the copper and brass coils and the tubing that wrapped around it and led up under his sleeve, and the man was flexing his fingers. Despite its cumbersome appearance, the man moved with the ease of one who wore it often and long. 

“Well? Which is it? Are you selling Thin Mints or are you leaving?”

This time, the Messenger saw a twinkle in the man’s blue eyes and the slightest twitch to his lips. Clearing his throat the Messenger found his official voice and managed to state his business.

“I am here with a message from His Royal Majesty, King Selinger Pendragon, to Inventor Aether Pendragon.”

The man blinked, lowering his left hand from the lever and relaxing his right as he absorbed this information, realizing the man on his porch must be a Royal Messenger. One who is never ignored for he spoke the very words of the King, himself.

“I see. Please, come in.” His tone turned respectful and he widened the door, waving the Messenger inside. “I do apologize for my earlier behavior. I’m always getting salesmen or the local kids knocking on my door to sell me something right in the middle of my work. Here we go, this way, please.” And he led the way into his front room.

It was clearly meant to be a sitting room with windows for the light and a view of what would normally be the garden but seemed to hold odd bits of metal statuary and half-built models. Inside the room, every table top, most of the chairs, and the buffet were stacked or stuffed with books and papers in what appeared to be a haphazard manner while objects that appeared to be in the beginning stages of creation sat on top of the remaining chairs, some of the book stacks, or on what floor space was left with gears and wire coils of all types of metal strewn between them. Only a few appeared to be completed but the Messenger had no idea what they might do. 

The walls had been stripped of their decorative paper and painted over with something like the chalkboards teachers and professors used in classrooms to write on for their students. There were drawings, diagrams, equations, and notations everywhere and they made absolutely no sense to the Messenger. The scope of the mathematics and schematics were dizzying. Even as he tried to read them he could feel a headache starting behind his eyes. He was almost grateful when his host turned to him.

“The message, sir?” Aether asked.

“I must be sure I am speaking to Inventor Aether Pendragon, sir. I was given strict instructions that these Words were for him, alone.” The Messenger spoke severely. "And, you must admit, the name Pendragon is not that uncommon in the kingdom." 

With a sigh, his host turned to a small table with so many papers piled on top they appeared in danger of sliding everywhere at the least breeze or featheriest touch. Somehow, and the Messenger almost suspected magic, the papers not only remained in place but yielded what their owner sought. He turned back and flourished a set of Travel Papers with his name and likeness stamped on them along with a clear representation of his signature.

The Messenger smiled. “I apologize, Professor Pendragon. His Majesty was most insistent in his instructions.”

Aether smiled slightly. “Believe it or not, I do understand, lad. The message?”

Glancing around for a clear surface, he was startled when Aether swept the papers off the very table he’d just dug through for his proof of identity. Setting them with precarious indifference atop another table piled with books, he gestured toward the now-free side table. The Messenger settled the crate atop its gleaming mahogany surface and handed the key to Aether.

“I will wait in the hall, Professor. His Royal Majesty said the message was for you, only. But, he did give me personal instructions in case you had any questions.”

Aether lifted an eyebrow at this. ‘Personal instructions’ meant that the King’s Messenger had undergone hypnosis and had no idea what the king had said to him. It was buried in his subconscious and could only be retrieved by a trigger known only to the Messenger when it was needed by the person it was for. Until that time, as far as the Messenger was concerned, it didn’t exist. If it wasn’t needed, then the ‘personal instructions’ would never exist. It was the one sure way to keep enemies of Calidonia from getting information meant for the king’s agents. If a Messenger were captured and was unable to escape, his body and its systems would shut down and he would die. Each Messenger knew this, and each Messenger was willing to serve his king. 

Aether nodded and the Messenger left the room, closing the door tightly behind him. Aether stared at the crate that nearly covered the small side table, weighing the key in his hand. What did Selinger want now? Knowing there was only one way to find out, Aether sighed and fitted the key into the lock on the crate. 

The sound of gears clicking into place reached Aether’s ears and, for a moment, the box seemed to writhe as the gears moved, then the sides of the box began to slide open and out of the way. Inside was a Gyrospeaker, an instrument not unlike a gyroscope in that it had, depending on its’ complexity, two to three rings on top of a simply etched gold box. This particular box had four rings. Within the rings hovered a round knob of sterling silver loosely wrapped with thin copper wires. Once set in motion the Gyrospeaker’s rings would begin a rapid spinning and a picture of the sender would be projected into the air above the rings with the recorded message emerging from a Speech Box. It was expensive and normally used only by the very wealthy or an extremely serious situation. 

Pressing the Receptor Switch to start the process, Aether went to clean off a chair as the gears began to warm up. He settled into the chair before the Gyrospeaker, running a hand over the smooth wood of the chairs’ arm while he waited for the gears to reach message speed. 

Soon, the whining from the gears reached the proper speed and the rings began spinning in opposition to each other. They produced a static charge that bounced off the sterling knob and copper wire, then shot into the air above the spinning rings. As Aether watched, a face began to take form over the rings and a panel in front of the box folded aside so the Speech Box could slide forward. As it did, the King’s mouth began to move and his voice emerged from the Speech Box. 

“Hello, Brother. Greetings and all that royal protocol we’re supposed to indulge in. Let’s don’t, but say we did.” He grinned and Aether couldn’t help but chuckle in response to their childhood saying for not doing what they ought. 

Then the king sobered. “I need your help, ‘Ther, but, it’s very likely to be dangerous. Before I even tell you what I need, know you are free to refuse.” He paused and glanced down. “This is hard, ‘Ther, because you’re the only one I can trust with this and to do this, but you’re still my little brother.” Aether winced even as his brother’s image looked up again to add with a slight smile. “No matter how old you become or how amazing an Inventor you are.” 

He sobered again. “Something’s coming, Aether. Something evil. My Sight Makers can’t See what it is and only know it’s coming from both the Far South and from within.”

By now, Aether had slouched down in the chair, one arm crossed over his chest to support the other as he reached up and twisted the hairs of one eyebrow, a habit he’d begun in childhood whenever he was contemplating something intensely. 

“There is one hope, Aether. My chief Sight Maker, Meirnath, has spoken of a Brass Maker who has a rare skill we may be able to use. She can create small portals between our world and another that Meirnath is too terrified to describe. Apparently whatever lives there has Sight beyond that of even our greatest Sight Makers.” He paused.

“I don’t know if this is the right road to take, Aether, but it seems right. I need you to go into the Deep Murk Forest in the Black Ward Mountains and find this Brass Maker. Ask her help in creating these Portals to see if these beings will aide us.

“Meirnath says you’re the best choice and chance to find this Brass Maker but, as I said, you’re free to refuse. I have other agents I can send, agents trained to survive in the Wilds. The choice is yours. Give your answer to the Messenger. And, yes, he can answer any questions you have. He’s the best Messenger in my service.” Aether’s eyebrows rose at that. 

The king’s hand lifted. “Be well, ‘Ther, whatever you decide. Just choose quickly.”

The spinning rings slowed and the King’s face vanished even as Aether raised his hand in response. Once silence returned, Aether sat a few more minutes in continued contemplation, his fingers still twisting his eyebrow. He stared, unseeing, at the now silent Gyrospeaker before abruptly throwing himself from his chair and toward the door. Selinger said the Messenger was not only his best but had answers he might need. As he opened the door to step into the hallway a grin spread across Aether’s face.

Yes! An adventure!

Still Here... And now, Writing Creativity

Well! It seems I can't be creative in my bead/jewelry crafting studio at the moment. My dog is still ALL puppy and he STILL thinks I'm his Momma. He saves up all his energy all day (I kid you not, Mr. Mellow all morning and most of the afternoon) and then gets pie-eyed crazy when I come home. He needs a walk, he needs to play, he needs my attention even if he doesn't want to do anything more than chew on his Soothie. I turn my back for even 5 minutes and someone is hollering for me to "come get [my] dog!"

That said, I've decided to go a slightly different creative route. Those who have seen my poetry know I enjoy writing. I also love trying to write stories but I'm not so great at it. I can do short stories - you know, 300 words or less kind of thing - but it's harder when you start talking novel-length stories. But I want to try. And I've got a pretty cool story in the works. It's inspired by an acquaintance who is a retired Veteran (you know how I feel about our Vets, too!) and he and his wife are very much into the Steampunk genre, Aether Pendragon and his wife Dr. Steamy Brassington (she creates aMAYzing jewelry, among other things, and he makes contraptions!).

I've already got a short story I wrote on Dr. Brassy and I'm now calling it the Prologue to my story I'm working on about Aether and, I've decided, I want to share them with you. In part, because I've been gone so long and I don't want anyone thinking I've fallen off the edge of the World and, in part, because I can be creative and set it aside easily when I need to "come get your dog!" again. I'm going to try and do this at least once a month. I can't promise more than that right now until my dog is less clingy but also because I take forever to write things. I hand write it out, then I go put it on the computer (making adjustments as I go), then I re-read it and make more adjustment. It's really a never-ending process that I have to force myself to knock off so others can read, if they want to. Which brings me to the Prologue (formerly known as "The Brass Maker's Fire"). Enjoy!

THE BRASS MAKER'S FIRE

Deep in the verdant forest sat a cottage of finely burnished wood and metals. The slated roof, covered in deep green moss, was slanted just enough to allow any rain to run off into the catch barrels placed strategically at each corner. Windows, now covered by shutters of a complementary wood and latched by patinaed copper forms, faced both North and South – a most auspicious placement for a Maker.

Within the cottage a Makeress sat before a Makers Fire concentrating on a gold nugget that floated in the air before her. Eyes the blue of a winter’s lake glowed with an inner fire of their own as an unfelt wind caressed her deep auburn curls while she studied the nugget. To her left sat a small tower made of Zebra wood and fine leather dyed a rich burgundy. Copper, brass, and steel gears showed through the glass encased sides of the tower but no clock face or other obvious reason for the gears was in evidence, yet the wear and grease on the cogs and teeth showed their constant use. To her right was a table with glass bottles of various sizes and holding a multi-hued assortment of liquids. Some carried a seal warning of their dangerous nature. Some had different pieces of metal hanging in their liquids which bubbled and frothed. Some had an extremely pungent aroma.

The Makeress gracefully lifted her right hand and cupped it just under the floating bit of gold without actually touching it. With her left hand she reached up to the leather band around her forehead and adjusted an eye piece, much like a jeweler’s loupe, down in front of her eye. It began to glow a luminous blue as she leaned forward to carefully examine the gold in detail. Satisfied, she nodded to herself and pushed the loupe away as the glow faded. Still graceful, she gestured with her left hand and the gold floated into the Makers Fire. The flames parted to accept the gold, closing about it and, at the Makeress’s further gesture, the flames turned from gold, to silver, to blue, before they settled to a deep, sunset orange with hints of red and black.

Chanting softly, the Makeress recited the Words of Calling with careful precision even as her hands sketched the Signs of Binding in the air between her and the Fire. To her left, the gears in the wood and glass tower began to move with smooth, silent efficiency. To her right, a beaker half filled with red liquid, and another with a burnished gold liquid, began to bubble with vigor. Still in her soft voice, she spoke the final words, gently made the final gesture, and a bell’s tones seemed to peel from the gear tower. At its musical, sustained tone the liquids bubbling within the two beakers shot out and into the Makers Fire. A roar resounded from the Fire’s depths, filling the room and rattling the glass on the table and in the tower before it faded away.

She gestured again and the Fires parted to reveal a transformed piece of gold. It now resembled a nobleman’s pocket watch except there seemed to be a deep hole in its center. Another gesture from her and a tongue of the Makers Fire gently bore it forward to leave it hanging before her eyes once more. The hole now showed what seemed to be a closed eye through it. With a satisfied smile the Makeress whispered. “Awake.”

The eyelid, a deep burnished orange, slowly blinked open and a red and black iris appeared. The pupil, slit like a cat’s eye – or a dragon’s – seemed to fluctuate before focusing on her, then a voice spoke.

“Who has Called me?” The voice was at once a deep, rich bass and a musically ringing soprano. So rich its tones seemed to vibrate in the Makeress’s very bones. The Makeress smiled again.

“I have, Ancient One. Our need is great and you are summoned to aide us in this time.”

The eye examined the woman.

“Only me? The need is not so great, then, and you are foolish to waken me.”

“No, Ancient One. Not you, alone. Many of your brothers and sisters have already been Called and I will Call many more. Will you aide us?”

“The choice is not mine to make.” The voice rumbled aggressively. “You have made the Calling and created the Binding. I must Answer.”

“Nay. I hold none against their will. Look. Look deep within and you will see those who chose to aide and those who refused.”

There was silence as the eye seemed to look inward for many long moments, then it focused on her once more with slightly less suspicion. “I can refuse?”

She nodded. “With no consequences to you or yours, Ancient One. There is a war coming. Not all can help, or even are willing to do so. I respect that. I only ask you hear before you decide.”

The eye considered her again before it replied. “Speak, then. Though I offer no great hope. This portal is too small for such as I to Pass Through.”

“You are not required in your Entire Being. Only the aide of your Sight is needed, if you will grant it.”

“It would take a strong mind and even stronger will to use the Sight summoned by such as I and my kin. Our visions are rarely a blessing and more of a curse. Nightmares.”

The Makeress’s smile widened. “Sightmares, we call them. Yes, we know. Many are in training to accept what you show and to learn how to understand and translate what is seen. Only the Wild Ancients have this great and terrible Power. We will learn or die.”

The eye appeared to smile. “I believe I like you, Little One. I am known as Orick the Feared. How are you called?”

“I am the Brass Maker.” And the Makeress’s smile filled with satisfaction as she placed the final Binding upon Orick.

© Copyright 2013 Pam Sears (UN: condorsfan at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.

Firsts - Attempts & Trips

So, I made my first attempt at forging a copper bracelet. I took some 6g copper wire, annealed it (as much as you can with a hand-held butane torch) and hammered the snot out of it (annealing as needed). I then hammered one area slightly wider than the rest so I could stamp words on it. Once that was complete, I worked and worked to bend a bracelet. I learned several things in this 1st attempt:
1) 6g wire is a bear to work with when it starts to harden. Anneal, anneal, anneal!
2) Having some sort of mandrel to curve &/or hammer your bracelet into shape is a must, you just end up with a fairly rough looking bangle otherwise (still, not too horrible, I wear it proudly!).
3) Use block letters to stamp when you want a long word or a sentence. Cutsie letters are fine for single or simple words, but not so much for a whole sentences.
4) It's gonna take time and effort to get what you're after so don't give up. It can be done, just not (usually) on the 1st try.

Here are a few photos of my first attempt:

As you can see, the lettering is hard to read as cutsie swirls. My next attempt will be block letters and I have a few ideas for getting them set where I want instead of just "eyeballing" it.  You can also see how rough the (non-)circle of the bangle is.

Another angle to show the wording and the rough look. I don't mind some "roughness" to my work but I want it to be deliberate, not because I haven't done a good enough job.
HOWEVER!!! In the second pic you'll notice an arrow pointing to a small, soldered area? YES!! I FINALLY WORKED UP THE NERVE TO DO MY FIRST SOLDER JOB!! WOO HOO! You should'a seen me doing the giggly version of the Happy Hamster Dance. Ooooorrrr, maybe not (HA!). ANYwho! I found some no-flux-needed copper solder at Lowe's (in a handy-dandy little syringe-type dispenser) and this is what I used. Obviously it doesn't look copper, but it's apparently for use with copper. I don't care. IT'S MY FIRST JOB! I'll admit, it's a bit rough looking, too, but I STILL DID IT! (giggles ensuing again)  I worked those two ends over until they were fairly smooth in bumping against each other, then I applied the paste and then the flame. This is a low-temp solder so my little butane torch was more than adequate. It did take me a couple of tries or so because I didn't let it heat enough to set (I got nervous) but it's solid, now. I've even tried pulling and tugging that area. Nope! Not coming apart.
So, being of a mind to continue in this vein, I have ordered my 1st mandrel from Amazon and I also ordered a pair of black, bending pliers. Supposedly they are good for shaping heavier metals for rings and bracelets. (yes, I'm afraid I'm a bit tool-mad at times!) If you'd like to see them, follow this link. They looked like a good idea to me so I'll give you a review on them once I've gotten them and tested them out.

Now, about the "& Trips"  part of my title. Saner Sister and I took The Toad on his first road trip over to the coast. We found out the Avila/Pismo area of California is quite pet friendly and, in some cases, beyond welcoming to your furry, four legged friend. The Toad had a ball. Saw his first hotel (Sea Crest in Pismo, for any interested parties, is one of the top places to stay in my opinion), then saw the ocean for the 1st time (wasn't sure what to think of that!) and met several other pooches out enjoying the surf. Wore. Him. OUT!  We also enjoyed eating at The Custom House in Avila. They have a patio area where we were able to sit with The Toad and they even have a PET MENU you can order from for your dog! Saner Sister & I laughed, then stopped laughing and ordered The Toad some hotdog (called "Who Let The Dogs Out") which sent him to Toad Dog Heaven. He was quite spoiled on that trip but he had a blast. Here's a few pics of his time over there:



Not sure what to think of it all. Top left, loved sniffing the kelp!
Center right, his first encounter with a wavelet. He was having
NONE of it! Meeting friends, of course.  Bottom right, watching
crazy humans on surf boards from the pier. Wasn't too crazy
about the pier walk. Wanted off that thing, now!

  

Top left, 1st glimpse of the ocean. Bottom row, having fun
chasing things (birds, waves, other dogs). Middle left,
the look he gave me the day I told him we were getting ready
to go home. Guess he liked getting spoiled being w/Momma
and Saner Sister all day, every day.

(Saner Sister tho't we'd better get in at least one pic w/the Toad, hence the selfie)  So, everyone had fun, The Toad and I got dunked at least once (a wave was higher than we tho't it was going to be) and everyone went home exhausted and happy. Now, back to the routine of the Evil Day Job, walking the Toad (and working on manners, he forgot those with his vacation!), and getting back into the craft room.

Fun.

Vacation With Saner Sister & The Beast

 So, a couple of weekends ago, Saner Sister and I took "The Beast" (aka Zackery, or Z, or Toad... depending) over to Pismo/Avila Beach area. We stayed at the Sea Crest Motel in Pismo and they are a VERY pet friendly place! By the way, if you decide to stay there, call them direct! Do not use a booking agency. 1) They don't always have all the info you need; the booking agency I got (not realizing it wasn't the hotel itself...duh on me!) first tried to pull a bait-n-switch and get me into another hotel by telling me Sea Crest wasn't pet friendly (and had never been). When I called them on it, they gave me a song & dance about all the pet available rooms being completely booked. (hint: never lie to me when you want my business, I will hang up on you!) I decided to do more research (which included getting the Sea Crest's direct line... it's (805) 773-4608 or (888) 686-7103 to reach them) and found that ALL their rooms are pet friendly! 2) The booking agency doesn't always have the best price. When I called the hotel direct, I ended up saving $20.00 on the per-night price. Nice!

Suffice it to say, we all had a blast! It was only for a couple of days but it was worth it! Here are some pics of the Beast and his first road trip/vacation:

1st day: various tired out nap positions of The Beast: clockwist from top left,
on Saner Sister, still on her bed, in the car on the way TO Pismo, end of day two
he was hiding from the light I hadn't turned off yet, lying on his back and sacked out.

Clockwise from top left: 1st experience with kelp, he loved it; not
sure what all that big, cold wet is but it smells... and is cold; bouncing
around the sand chasing gulls; 1st time the water came up and hit him,
he caught air trying to get away from the cold, chasy thing!; watching
surfers off a pier in Avila... he wasn't sure what to think; meeting new
friends (goldens & a mixed breed); sitting on the pier at Avila; not too
sure of getting close to the foamy, cold, chasy stuff.

Clockwise, top left: checked in and first glimpse of the ocean for
The Beast; selfie w/The Beast & Saner Sister; (again on the pier
at Avila... sorry); still napping on Saner Sister; again with the
new friends (he really liked them); having a ball chasing gulls and
new friends; the look he gave me when I said we were going home.

Just a comparison of this giant puppy (who will be a year old
4/11) from when we brought him home at 2.5 months and when
he was asleep on Saner Sister at 11 months. Quite the change (sigh).

So, that was our vacation. Z had a ball and so did we. Now, back to the old grindstone.

Creative Spark E-Zine & Spring Challenge

A few weeks ago, I mentioned there was a surprise coming up. I may have mentioned beads and Znet Shows (I don't remember at this point) but there were (obviously) beads involved and they were from Znet as a part of a blind Spring Challenge (blind, as in I didn't know what beads I'd be working with until I opened the box they sent). Boy, what a box! It was crammed! It was packed! I got the box and giggled for at least twenty minutes.



A beautiful mix of Spring colors to work with



More....



More....



There were actually a lot more beads than this, and I made a whole bunch'a earrings, but only so many could be entered in the challenge. You see, they were going to be published in their E-Zine, Creative Spark. YES! ME! WOO HOO!! First time I've ever been published for my hobby. I love beads and I love getting free beads to create with. Znet Shows has some awesome beads to play/work with. Please, take a moment to go here to check out their 'zine (I'm featured starting on page 83) and feel free to enjoy the beautiful work of my teammate designers.

Spring Cleaning Challenge

I'm not sure what made me sign up for Sharyl McMillian-Nelson's Spring Cleaning Challenge for your studio but, I did. Sadly, I didn't finish my clean up. Here's what happened.

I am one of those who creates best in a creative mess. Honestly, it just seems to work for me. I didn't get a before shot of my "creative mess" but trust me when I say "mess" was being polite. Yeah. Bad. So I decided to roll up my sleeves and dig in. Oh, and, while I was at it, I was going to move things around. Yeah, that will get me finished EVER so much faster! Anyway, I did think to get a few pictures here and there, so let me share those!

 

Here's the "half-way" point. Notice the sunlight. Yeah. Anyway, it got a lot worse than this before it got better. That walk way to the left was filled with moved stuff before I got everything in place.

Here was the (nearly) completed and rearranged craft room. I actually managed to get the table cleared off later so there was a nice, clean surface to start over on. I have an area specifically for my torch work and clay (when I get braver) work. I have all those nice little drawer sets to put my papers, extra tools, ribbon, etc. in. I even reorganized my bookshelf to hold my wires, special beads and findings as well as books, drawing pads, & paints. Again, notice the (lack of) sunlight? Yeah, took that long. This was, for me, a day-long project. The procrastinator in me can't do bits and pieces over several days, it has to all be at once. If I don't, I can get distracted by all the things I "find" to play with. Remember that ADOS I've mentioned in other posts? Uh huh. (Attention Deficit Ooh! Shiny! for those of you who've not hear me mention it before). I don't think I've ever been so tired in. my. life!

Sadly, I didn't get a shot of the completely clean table top and, not long after, I began a new series of projects that required me to make a mess all over again. Here's what it looks like again (sorry, Sharyl, I know this wasn't exactly what you had mind):

When I'm working, even when I leave my table to return later (that day, another day, whatever) I leave out what I'm working on because, to me, why make the bed when you're getting right back in that night? Yep! I'm that bad! What I'm working on doesn't require everything that's sitting there, but what's sitting there might spark an idea so why fight it?!

Anyway, that's where my table is. The rest of the craft room is still pretty neat from my cleaning spree, but the table is, once again, on it's way to that "creative mess" so many of us live in. But, it's okay, they know us in this world ;)

Please go to Sharyl's page to check out everyone else's pages that participated in this Challenge. I'm sure they did much better at it than I.

We're All Ears February Design

Oh, no! I almost (well, I did) forgot about Kristi Bowman's February Earring Challenge! I won't make excuses and I'll apologize that I only have the one photo of my earrings. I decided to go with the Damsel Flys as my buggy inspiration. That, and I'm currently having a crush affair with Ancient Egypt so I decided to try something "scarab-y" looking. I know there was only the faaaaaaaintest touch of yellow in the picture Kristi gave us, but my scarabs (such as they are) have yellow bodies, copper "wings" and flower bead caps for the heads. The blue bead is an accent and because it's the closest thing I have to lapis in my hoard. Go here to check out Kristi's design (and inspiration photo) and see what everyone else has done. (and, next month, I'll try to stay on top of it... and more pics!)