Creating: My Bliss

This inspired life

I create what I love and love what I create. I'm delighted to receive compliments on being prolific. Who knows whether being prolific is what makes me happy, or if being happy is what makes me prolific? Either way, my maker's life is my bliss.

At the root of my joy is scissors, what I can do with them. I rely on Fiskars for practically everything I make. It would be impossible to live my best life without them.

A singular pursuit?

I've heard the argument that, to truly master any form of art, it's best to focus on a singular pursuit. That advice could be prudent for others, but I find the opposite works for me. Each new thing I try teaches me. The result is a wondrous tapestry of sights, sounds, textures, colors, patterns, styles, and experiences. I get to be a Renaissance woman of my own making. How fun is that?!

What I lack in visual arts education I overcome with imagination and daring, not to mention patience and perseverance. My late mother and grandmother dabbled in poetry and painting and, like them, I am often inspired. Practically everything I hear, see, smell, taste, touch, or live through motivates me to create.

The journey itself often takes my breath away.

Self expression

As a maker, I create projects that combine materials, tools, and techniques in ways that sometimes turn out masterful, but it doesn't always work out the first time. Fortunately I approach life with a sense of humor. I have learned to relax into crafting, art, writing, photography, and a whole host of other passions, and I find it can be a lot of fun when things go awry. I simply keep at it until I'm happy. After all, I'm the one who decides what's good or else still needs a bit of love and attention.

No stone unturned

I dabble in ceramics, clay, fabrics, gemstones, glass and sea glass, inks, metal, metal clay, paints, papers, pastels, pens, pigments, thread, wire, wood, words, yarn, up-cycled materials, light, sound, and anything else that moves me. You can too!

To be or not to be...

In 2000, I traveled to England to study the Bard and found myself every bit as consumed with Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone as I was with King Lear, A Midsummer Night's Dream, and Romeo and Juliette.

Wands were inevitable

Upon my return to the states, I grew increasingly excited to try my hand at wand craft. I believed I could bind my love of words and budding photography fascination with my new-found fondness for witchcraft and wizardry. I added specialty paints and I was off to the races!

Ground rules

Before I delved into wand-lore and wand craft, I insisted that my creations pay homage to, but never be knock-offs of, J.K. Rowling's wands. I also knew I wouldn't create Ren Fest wands or kids' party favors; other artists already have those styles covered.

Materials

Naturally, I had to obtain all manner of wood (dowels, branches, discarded blocks, hardwoods from reputable dealers, up-cycled materials).

I also needed a sewing machine and bolts of fabric. Okay, car loads of fabric. While I'm at it, I might as well make other stuff, too. I'm talking cosplay, costumes, felt and stuffed toys, wearable art, mixed media...

I also needed a Dremel (carving tool, sander, buffer). And of course more Fiskars (yep, punches, scissors, shears, stencils, mats) and clay (ooooooh, so many options--had to try them all) and metal clay. And let's see... hobby paints and spray paints to complement my stash of acrylics and oils, and gold leaf and silver foils, and pigments, and adhesives, and stained glass window paints, and the kitchen sink...

Boxes

I knew that I would have to teach myself to make and decorate boxes in which to house my wands. Translation: I simply had to delve into woodworking. (A life-long dream of mine.) Sad to say, I don't have room in my home or funds in my bank account for all the equipment needed for woodworking (lathe, circular saw, jig, large-scale tables, etc.), especially given all the other things taking up my creative energies. But thus far I've found satisfactory work-arounds.

Someday I'll make furniture, too, but that'll have to wait until I complete the plethora of other projects.

Pillows

I decided to create pillows in which to nestle each magical creation and taught myself to sew. Well, sort of. I figured out pillowcases.

Thing is, I started with silk. (Hint: never start with the slipperiest fabric on earth.) Pinking shears proved useful, as did how-to YouTube videos about hand-stitching pillows closed.

Ultimately, I phoned a friend, two actually, who know the art and science of sewing. Their expertise made all the difference. (Shout out to Linda and Julie!) I no longer fear the snapping of a needle, although threading one sometimes still gives me pause.

Certificates

The finishing splurge is handmade Certificates of Authenticity, complete with my own flourish: couplets about each wand. (Here I borrow from Rowling's Ollivanders' Wand Shop while keeping true to my own vision.)

Each certificate gets a custom maker's mark pressed into a color-coordinated wax seal, and sometimes dried flowers or ribbons or whatever else makes me smile. And I use specialty scissors every step along the way. Some certificates appear intricate and delicate as snowflakes while others are crafted to seem rugged or ancient or boldly attention-grabbing. Still others are cut with wavy, regal, or playful edges.

Each careful cut brings to life each wand's temperament, and each certificate underscores the object's value: tiny works of art.

Wand cores

For my wands' cores, I get my hands dirty playing with clay, metal clay, paper, wood, and or metal. Sometimes I use up-cycled materials, too, in unexpected ways.

And now, dear reader, I'm trusting you with my secret. In reading the following paragraph, you make a solemn oath, a pinky promise, to tell no one what you're about to discover!

For my wands' cores I add rare and alluring magical items: dragon heartstring, faery fire, lightning in a jar, little girls' whispers, mermaid scales (tip: keep to the iridescent ones -- the rest are too oily), barrel-aged phoenix tears, golden goose eggshell shavings, song of the bull frog (dipped in honey), necrotic toad's tongue (diced, naturally), troll tendons, unicorn hair, willow wipple dimples (soft side down, obviously), wolf's saliva (use within three days of collection), and such rare finds as ox-bat mucus (smells even worse than you'd imagine) and l'au d'lilypad (one of the loveliest fragrances ever to be distilled, but terribly expensive).

For my wands' exteriors, I either build up or carve away material using my Dremel, all manner of X-Acto blades, scissors, and all sorts of carving tools. Then comes the varying grades of sand paper.

Watching paint dry

Once I'm happy with the shape, width, and length of a wand, I use paints intended for stained glass windows to fashion either vivid glossy or cool matte/frosted glass colors, patterns, textures, and designs.

I figured out the how-to to coat my wands with love and paint. The love is easy, but it's a beast overcoming the paint's insistence on taking nearly 72 hours to dry. That's difficult because the products seek their own level (like water), so putting colors precisely where I want (on a nonlinear surface) one brush stroke at time and having it stay where I want it (instead of dripping with gravity) without me having to babysit the drying wand the entire time took some MacGyvering.

A final thought...

When not to color outside the lines

While I embrace using tools for any project in any way one sees fit, here's one piece of advice: when not to repurpose tools. I'm talking scissors. Try to use scissors for their intended purpose until, at long last, they've done their life's work. Fabric scissors, for instance, can be ruined if you use them on paper, plastic, wax paper, metal, wood, cling wrap, etc.

Otherwise, mixed media knows no bounds. Go for it!

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Copyright © 06/04/2021 by Christy Munson. All rights reserved.