I am happy to share this guest post by Emily Rosenfeld. Emily is a self-taught jewelry and Judaica artist living in western Massachusettts with her 6 year old son Jasper and partner Keith. You can see her beautiful work at www.emilyrosenfeld.com.
by Emily Rosenfeld
The snow is melting. My little side garden had snow past the windows last month but the white has receded leaving rosy tipped tulips poking out of the dark wet earth. Spring is coming. It snowed big wet March snowflakes yesterday, but the season is turning.
In the studio, I am feeling my mind start to wander toward new ideas. Little sterling birds are starting to form themselves. Meaningful words are coming to mind. But when I try to draw what I am sensing nothing comes. I am not quite seeing it. It is definitely not time to take out the silver
I am finally realizing that this is making jewelry. It always starts like this with daydreams while I’m sawing out jump rings or walking down my buildings’ long hall to the sink. I feel jittery and a little bit at loose ends but I think this is actually creativity, stirring and unclear. I am remembering not to panic before craft shows when I need to make new pieces. There are tender shoots that have been growing towards the light, maybe still buried, but growing. Making seems to be about having faith in the process; trusting that the drawing will translate into three dimensions; that the felted wool will become a little chicken for Lucy’s 2nd birthday.
So, for now, the snow is still melting. I am not quite ready for the next step and the bulbs are staying blanketed a little bit longer. Maybe the silver bird will actually be a flower or a circle but I know I want it to be small and to hold a word. That is enough for now. This year I’m feeling more patient, more trusting, more likely to notice the tiny green leaf that is not yet ready to unfurl.