Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: IMPOSSIBLE (09/05/19)
- TITLE: Impassable, Not Impossible
By Judith Gayle Smith
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Crafting necklaces is an art I have backed away from. I once delighted in designing "killer necklaces" - large, sometimes five strands, and to my eyes very desirable. Dashing through Gem Fairs and Bead Shows, I seek for the unique, be it of opal glass or too-large imposing beads for the focal pieces of my self-admitted "masterpieces."
I ran with octopus beads for an entire week. Had to have freshwater pearls, Swarovski crystals, all to appear oceanic. Gorgeous, "themed" necklaces. Got lots of oohs and ahs that played to the "Yes, yes" part of me that needed to be flattered. You should see the beauties designed with faux ivory.
I created to please myself. I was so proud of myself. I wore each piece with a velvet top to show them off at work and at play. Two bead sellers told me I could sell a beach-themed piece for two thousand dollars.
I asked the same bead sellers if they wished to purchase my mega-watt necklace, and they demurred.
I reluctantly agreed to sell my wares in a sweet "Country Store", located in the heart of the assisted living center wherein I reside. Odd - a few pieces sold, but the bulk of my bulging necklaces just sat, miserable and unwanted. It seemed people who need aid do not want to wear three pounds of my exquisite crafts. My mistake. I had to use several safety pins strategically placed about my chest and neck to take the weight from my neck.
I have Fibromyalgia, and I never equated the heavy pieces I loved with - well, I became my own pain in the neck. Did I imagine my friends here would be able to bear what I couldn't wear myself? These proud objects now grace the walls in our living room. I cannot bring myself to take them apart to make them smaller and more marketable. Self-pride costs more than a mere loss of income.
I also aspire to be a current Irma Bombeck - a wonderfully talented writer who, gifted with humor and grace, made so many of us want to emulate her. Hysterical mundane daily happenstances, magnified beyond belief, have to be shared with friends and reluctant family. I once wrote a story about our toilet overflowing.
No publishers besiege me to work with them.
I had an epiphany yesterday. I use words the same way I use heavy, unsellable necklaces. I have to join word to word (bead to bead), used with too many flowing adjectives (Swarovski crystals) - repeating themes (necklaces) that only I find readable (wearable) and become much too wordy (lengthy and heavy) to be enjoyed beyond boredom. Reading this "golden prose" has put ME to sleep.
"Shorten and tighten" apply to both necklaces and writings. How? I understand why - uncomfortable necks, and overflowingly descriptive, again "prose" has severely limited my not-so appreciative wearers and readers. I have a rabid fan - my sister, who could and sometimes does listen to my almost two hundred writings - over and over. She also loves my necklaces and, if I don't give them to her - she buys from me. She is an encouraging sweetheart, and, praise God, she is my best prayer warrior.
Again, shorten and tighten. Perhaps someday I will return to beading, and craft not-so-great masterpieces, unwieldy and unsellable. I even may take advice, not as harsh criticism, but as sweet suggestions meant to heal me, not harm me. My boyfriend will not read my writings, nor listen to me when I read them aloud. My writing is too profuse and wandering - and boring to the man I love. That is harsh.
We learn by doing. My sister just offered that people are not allowing me to be myself. My "self" has a serious problem - egotistical, proud and craving attention. I profess to be a Godly woman. I dress modestly, I can even curb my "Histrionic Personality" to listen and appreciate God's Holy Writ. I think, rather than strive to impress, I will seek to be quiet, and learn and listen from others.
God wants and deserves to be exalted. Not me.
Impossible? No - impassable. I will find His way to solve this, not mine.
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