I sit on the floor with a true-crime podcast running in the background while methodically deconstructing hundreds of bead necklaces destined for the landfill if I had not rescued them from eBay.
I purchased a few 8-lb. boxes of random bead necklaces from sellers for upcoming projects that need beads.
(To be clear, this is me using need like I need a third cup of coffee.)
Still, they will be useful. I didn’t want to purchase cheap mass-produced beads that feed into overconsumption, plastics, and the things I’d like less of in my world.
I unexpectedly had the delight of a 6-year-old digging through my mom’s old costume jewelry cast-offs. It was my very own treasure hunt right on my living room floor.
I sat picking through the necklaces and wondering what these beads had seen and heard. What stories had they been part of? What occasions had they been to? Where did they live?
Were they cherished and cared for? Or were they a 90% discount bargain that got lost in a drawer’s back corner, never to see the light of day?
If they could talk, what would they say about their fellow beads in the same necklace? If beads had personalities, who would be the gregarious ones, the life of the party? Who would be the quiet, subtle introverts?
Yes, this is actually how my brain works. ☺️
Some necklaces were very evidently from Africa and brought back memories of markets, artisans at work, and hot cups of tea under the shade of Mango trees.
Observing beads in the context of their necklaces got me thinking about how the stories we tell ourselves string together to create the context of our experiences.
If we want different experiences, we need to start telling ourselves a different, and hopefully better story.
I began the work of snipping the cords and freeing the beads from the story that held them in place to experience a different story.
It was all costume jewelry that eventually would have been thrown away. But separated into glass, wood, acrylic, metal, and stone—they transformed with new possibilities.
Why would you destroy perfectly good necklaces? I can hear my mom’s bewildered voice echoing in my head.
But I wasn’t destroying them. I was reimagining and changing the story that defined them.
Sometimes, the very things we think will destroy us become an invitation to reimagine a better story.
I have great plans for these tiny treasures. Whether they are used in multimedia art projects, or transformed into miniatures… a better story awaits them. They are no longer withering away trapped in a musty bin with thousands of other beads destined for the trash heap.
Reclaiming the Power of Imagination
Jump-starting our imagination can be as simple as looking around us and choosing to ask a different question.
Instead of stopping at “What is it?”, we move on to “What can it be?”
Let me share two examples.
Example 1: Reimagining the Beads
In deconstructing them from their necklaces, I began to ask of each bead, what can this be?
Maybe the little glass microbeads can be teeny nobs on 1:24 scale appliances or handles on cabinets. Or perhaps they can be stitched into an embroidery piece.
Maybe the tall cylindrical beads might transform into miniature lamp bases.
Some of the beads are already set aside for making molds for making new clay beads.
Our imagination is like a muscle. The more we use it, the stronger it gets.
Example 2: What Kind of Art I’m Making
For the last few years, I’ve had seasonal or multiple themed art collections. It’s what the standard advice for artists leans toward. Especially those trying to get established in the fine art space.
Because I’m spending much more time writing this year, I re-evaluated that tactic.
I sat down with my planner and dreamed out loud.
What kind of art do I want to make this year? What lights me up? What am I drawn to? Where does all that intersect with what my audience gets value from?
I made a list:
Tiny worlds of wonder. Dollhouses, miniatures, vignettes
Adorable animals in whimsical attire
Three dimensional multimedia art
Imaginative ways to transform everyday things
Storybooks and fairytales
Tiny original art
This year, I reimagined what and how I make art.
Instead of multiple collections, I’m only doing one themed series… all year long.
The theme is PLAY. Still noodling on a name, but I am so excited to take you with me.
Let’s Put This to Practice
What’s an area you want to tell yourself a better story?
It starts with getting curious about that story (or stories) and how they make you feel.
Grab a notebook or paper and write out:
What you are feeling/thinking in the area you’d like to change?
One story you are telling yourself in that area.
Notice how that story feels.
What is one thing you might be able to shift ever so slightly?
Start with writing one or more small, teeny things you could change right now.
Write a new story with your new actions.
Here’s an example from my Friday. Y’all, I keep it real around here.
I was feeling: Really overwhelmed. Like I would never catch up with all the projects in my head or the things that need doing in my business. (Hi-one woman show around here.) Especially because symptoms from my parathyroid situation are sapping strength and focus.
The story I was telling myself: I am overwhelmed. I feel like I’m suffocating. I will never feel well enough to catch up.
Making a small, meaningful shift: Maybe I’m not overwhelmed because of all the things. Maybe I am overwhelmed because I am feeling disconnected from myself and thus without an anchor.
Choosing better, kinder story: I am feeling overwhelmed because my body is battling a lot right now. I also have gotten out of step with my rhythms and routines that keep me focused and grounded. My overwhelm isn’t just a capacity issue, it’s a connection issue. I can change these things.
A few tiny actions I can do to support this story:
Turn off all the background noise. Netflix, nice having you hang out over the holidays. B’bye again. Notifications back to silent. Disconnect from things distracting me.
Write about where I’m going, lean into my intuition, and get back to the rhythms that keep me writing and creating.
Limit outside activities that take more energy than I have until I feel better after surgery.
Simplify my options. Oatmeal in the morning. Rotate through 2-3 simple dinners and lunches.
This practice of curiosity and connection is at the heart of The Wonder Habit.
It’s not just about art and creativity here. It’s about the curiosity and connection that gives us the courage to unleash creativity and compassion in new ways.
And it could not happen without you.
As always, I’m so, so grateful you’re here.
All my love,