Creating new jewelry brings me such satisfaction, a sense of accomplishment.  It rids me of the nervous excitement that a creative idea, not yet manifested, creates in the body.  That same feeling a kid has on Christmas Eve, or during Hanukkah, when life sparkles with surprise. Almost every time after making, say, a pair of island chic, new earrings or new rings, my mind says "I want this feeling to last forever, so on Monday, make new necklaces, on Tuesday, new bracelets....".   It is ridiculously funny, now that I notice my mind's obsessive desire to hold on to pleasure.  It's like a song on repeat.  Mind loves taking control of the creative process, trying to make that feel good, spontaneous spark a constant. Package it up in a neat little formula. But creativity can't be "scheduled". It's oozing or it isn't. Living on island and exposed to the sky all of the time, I have noticed, however, that the natural order of my creative process is cyclical and coincides with the moon's travel. Anywhere between a new moon and a full moon, I can produce a whole pile of new jewelry.  It's usually something island chic, shiny and sparkly, or bohemian, natural and sexy, like wire wrapped armbands, beaded anklets or macrame ankle bracelets. Something one might wear to a full moon bonfire. When the moon is waning, its light diminishing, ideas seem to be abundant, but the physical drive to actually create those imagined treasures, is lacking and I am lucky to make one unusual piece of jewelry. But, of course, now that I've laid out my creative process in neat little words, it will probably all change. So be it.​ Peace Out,  Jen

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