I think all creative people make this experience, no matter if you write a poem or a song, knit a sweater, paint a picture, make a clay pot, loom with beads or turn wire into a piece of jewelry.
You make something and look at it once, twice or maybe a hundred times, then you find something is just not right and you have this uncomfortable feeling about it. I'll rip it up. Nah, maybe if I just change this line, the speed here, add a bit more color, another bead ... oh dear, no. No way, I'll have to rip it up. Crumpled paper around the wastepaper basket, wavy yarn and do you see the piece of wire flying in the trash or the scrap silver tin?
Sometimes it's easier. You suddenly do find the perfect rhyme you have been looking for for so long, your song sounds so much better played a little slower, that red really makes the other colors pop ... and the labradorite lentil with the silver bezel fits perfectly into that little spot in the middle.
I'll have to cheat a little on this post. Usually when I rip up a piece, I don't take a picture before doing it or I delete the pictures I already have. It's more like a sudden rage and a deep contented sigh afterwards that I finally did what I had been wanting to do all the time.
Instead I chose one of the pieces I could add something to and unfortunately I don't have a picture of this piece in the before state. Just think shiny and without the lab bead. It looked a little like some ancient eye charm, but it was lacking substance.
So when my infamous nightstand drawer produced the lab already in a silver crochet bezel AND when that piece fit the "eye" part inside the drop exactly, it was like a whole bunch of light bulbs being turned on. The little dot on the i was the idea to give it a more vintage look ... go away, shine, in come dark silver.
|Silver wire crochet drop with lab and garnets|