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Language Log

Tuesday, Sept. 12, 2017 - 4:30 p.m.

The old brain is back to its old shenanigans. "Well, ok. We won't sell books. What about jewelry again? You did so well with jewelry!" And she's right, I did ok with jewelry. I would like to recreate that. But doing the same jewelry feels like backtracking. Exploring one or two ideas that had potential don't seem like there's quite enough breadth there (I'm thinking of the bookshelf pieces, which could have been great as a part of my overall paper jewelry thing, but may not be enough to go on by themselves). Then brain shifts to fabric jewelry. Then I sit down and have a nice conversation with my brain about how 1) jewelry market is still oversaturated, 2) I can't do something like textiles that everyone else who sees them will feel that they can do themselves. Since my skill in textiles is admittedly amateur quality. So if I want to sell jewelry again, I need to update my methods and brand but stick to where I have already innovated and have unique skills. And then, frankly, I begin to feel a little old. Like maybe no one will want to buy jewelry from a chubby middle-aged lady with no fashion sense. "Maybe", Brain thinks, "You should just say to hell with it and make whatever weird jewelry you feel like making, and be your weird self."

Now, Brain. We had this talk already. You can't BOTH desire financial reward AND operate with no regard for what your market might want. That's how we end up not making any money, and I thought we agreed books and mending and calligraphy and cyanotypes and jam making are already giving us plenty to do in the "no damn money" sector of our hobbies. Besides, doing "whatever the hell I want" with my jewelry will leave me with rusty stuff I found on the sidewalk coated in gold leaf and sewn to a piece of old linen sheet I have torn and wrapped with embroidery floss. I would wear it, but I may literally be the only one, and my extended family would hesitate to be seen with me.

Keep working on it, Brain. Have some coffee.

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