A friend reminded me that the purpose of this weblog is to show my work. I've decided that yes, I do need to show more of my actual process here. I don't want to indulge fully in navel gazing. However, I think that documenting things that I love also qualifies as stuff I'm working on, as I'm quickly realizing that the more I focus on that, the more work I produce.
Here is just one of the many small joys I've been cultivating lately:
I spent some time rooting through clothing and accessories that wove many stories at The Canadian Opera Company Costume Sale. My friend and I modeled jewel-toned ball gowns (selling for $60!) for each other and twirled around like little girls in grown-up lady clothes.
I found this watch but had no idea if it would ever work. I only knew that I loved it and it was meant to be mine because, as I do with any trinket that falls into the category of I love it, I need it, I have to have it, it's perfect for me, I immediately put it on and didn't want to take it off. In fact, I initially walked out with it on and forgot to pay. Of course, knowing that the Opera is a not-for-profit, I went back and forked over the modest asking price of two dollars.
After showing off the watch all week to anyone I thought would appreciate it, I finally took it to the jewelery doctor for a diagnosis. I was delaying it because I knew that I'd be less inclined to wear a watch I knew could never be fixed.
The doctor cured my baby! It tells beautiful digital time and thoughtfully provides the day and month, also keeping track of the seconds should I ever need to count something like my watch has been fixed for one hour, 23 minutes and 7 seconds. Repairing my watch cost me 6 times the amount I paid for it and brings me an exponential amount of joy. Every time I check the time, I'll admire my original piece that is both functional and full of history.
Here are a few more snaps from that lovely day.