The Thrill of Victory and the Agony of Defeat - On the Bench and in Life

As a self-taught artist, I'm constantly struggling between the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat. I do love the constant high of learning new techniques and discovering new materials. Making jewelry has turned into a real passion and obsession. It's kind of all I think about these days. I feel an actual physical ache when I can't work at it because of other responsibilities getting in the way.

The burning question in my mind these days is why are some days so good and some, so bad.
To be more specific, why are there days on the bench when everything goes right and days when nothing you do works at all? And the bad day can immediate follow the good day and you're using all the same techniques you used the day before?

Is it cosmic? Do the sun, moon and stars have to be aligned correctly?
Is it environmental? The music you're playing? Hormonal?

I believe everyone experiences this dichotomy in all areas of their work or play. Including the personal work we try to do within ourselves; self-improvement. Some days we're "good" and others, we are just so bad.

On a good day, when the solder flows, and the stone fits in the bezel, and the saw blade doesn't break, time is non-existent and you're one with your creation. For me, it's an almost indescribable feeling (I'm trying to think of how to describe it here without much success). It's a high, a sense of accomplishment, a sense of wonder and magic.

And on a bad day? Frustration, self-doubt, despair, but again, a sense of wonder or perhaps puzzlement is a better word. Why?

Perhaps my expectations were too high? My techniques not accomplished enough? I was impatient and rushing rather than letting things flow?

I think the last two are very tangible realities, unfortunately. But at least, if recognized, something concrete that can be worked on. Interestingly, it's not just about technique; it's about ourself. About being one with the creation and flow, rather than control.

I guess the highs wouldn't feel so elevated without feeling the alternatives.

One of the difficult lessons to put into practice is when to walk away, cool off, do some push-ups, take a hike, take a nap...and come back when you're fresh. I've found this almost always works, on the bench and in life. It's sounds easy...except for that voice in your ear saying, "if I just try once more, or do it this way, or I'm not quitting yet..."

It's not quitting, it's taking a breather and regrouping. It's forgiving yourself and accepting.

This cuff is a piece I struggled with, off and on, for several days, which stretched into a couple of weeks due to having to walk away. Many times. It's not quite finished, but it was my first attempt at working with mixed metals. I was inspired by this lovely Picasso Marble cabochon. It reminds me of a fairy tale; an Arthur Rackham illustration of a slightly threatening, mysterious forest landscape. It speaks to my inner elf.

It was worth the struggle. I'm very pleased and excited about it. I can't wait to work on another mixed metal piece, or any new material or technique. Knowing when to forgive myself if "it's not flowing", enjoying one moment at a time and accepting the hardships as the pathway to peace.