I’ve Been Held Without Bail(s)

I knew it would happen at some point.

I would run out of ideas for my blog. Or I would hit a creative roadblock with my jewellery line.

Or both would happen almost simultaneously.

It was the last one.

It was like the sound of pouring water on your bonfire just before going to bed.

Psshhhhhhhhh!

When I first launched this, I had about 10 blog posts written and “in the can” ready to publish. When the can started getting dangerously empty, I realized I wasn't replacing those posts nearly as quickly as I was publishing them.

Then the end of June hit, followed quickly by July, and I found myself busy changing beds, prepping meals, and getting the patio all pretty for a steady stream of guests at the cottage.

You would think that being retired afforded me the free time to do nothing BUT write. Instead, July was a whirlwind of hosting and visiting, and before I could catch my breath, it was over.

I hadn't written a word.

I'd also hit a fork in the road — or, more accurately, a kink in the chain. I'd been hit with a case of perfection paralysis and couldn't make a bail to save my life.

Quick necklace-making lesson here: the bail is really critical and has to be done right. That tiny piece of wire is the thing that held my entire jewellery line hostage.

I went through a whole roll of my gold wire trying to make one bail for my ‘signature’ piece.

And then I gave up.

During a recent visit with my friend and former co-worker, something started to shift. We talked over lunch and wandered through a few cute little shops. Seeing handmade pieces in those shops — things someone else had imagined and then figured out how to make — had me smiling.

Then I showed my friend pictures of what I'd already made.

Watching her light up was like watching someone strike a match.

I came home that day and sat down once again.

Somewhere along the way, I realized my creativity hadn't actually disappeared.

It had just moved.

While I wasn't writing or making jewellery, I was painting the bunkie, turning an old fireplace into a planter, adding flowers and art and little pieces of myself all over the cottage.

The fire hadn't gone out.

I'd just stopped looking for it in the right places.

Maybe creativity doesn't always need to be chased.

Sometimes it needs to be left alone for a while.

A fire dies down. We walk away. We do something else.

And then one day, something — a conversation, a shop, an idea — sends us back for another match.

Six necklaces and one blog post later, I'd say mine has been relit.

Or maybe the fire never really went out.

Maybe I was just warming myself somewhere else for a while.

Until next time, may a wave of inspiration find you.