Saturday night ramblings - and wax crayons

Lately I have been watching English crime series. Lewis, Inspector Morse, Campion, and some others. I watched them find clues, wonder over letters and mysterious notes, and it made me think about my own notes that I tend to leave lying around.
Let's take this one for example. What would you read into it or try to deduce from it? Ok, so you are at an advantage because you know I'm a jewelry artisan.

On the other hand the detectives wouldn't take long to find that out, too. I'm almost certain that the jewelry, the bead stash and the fact that I have a little loom, crochet hooks and pliers on a pillow in my bed (don't judge me) would give me away. Who knows, they might have to pry my trusted 1.65 mm crochet hook from my cold, dead hand.
It's pretty obvious that it's not a code for my safe, simply because I don't own one, but what is it?

Now let me show you what I did yesterday and today and tell you what inspired me.
Do you remember the pictures we used to do with wax crayons? First we used all colors we had, big spots, small spots, layers, stripes, and then we covered that with black crayon. Afterwards we scratched a picture into the black, making the colors come back out. I remember that in elementary school we did the deep ocean, with colorful plants and fish.
It would have been interesting to create and loom a panel in that kind of look, but while waiting for supplies (that haven't arrived yet) I went a different way.
I used bead soup on a black background. Just imagine I took off the black in circles. And here's where the note comes into action. It's the size of circle I decided on. Since I'm old and my brain can be weak and lose information while just moving from one room to the other, I wrote down the numbers of beads.
Count for yourself (don't forget you'd need to rotate the picture first, though).

For more color and a bit of fun I added a happy irregular bead soup and wooden beads fringe.

I'm not keen on experiencing this detective thing, by the way. It's just one of those train of thoughts my brain comes up with in the middle of the night or very early in the morning after only four hours of sleep (&/§%$§&/ those greedy cats). I'd rather prefer to stay alive and bead. Although I'd dig a visit by Sergeant Hathaway.

P.S. I know it's not exactly night, actually it's afternoon. Let's call it artistic freedom.