Writing a blog gets to be part of a daily routine...for me, anyway. The past three days have been totally fun with no time to even think about a subject for blog eyes only. I've been at a workshop to understand something I have been doing incorrectly for years...no wonder I was frustrated every time I worked at making bezels in jewelry ( as in setting stones). For two days, John Cogswell, the person teaching the course shared knowledge it took him 40 years to develop and he gave much of a tiny area of it to 12 of us in a couple of days. Iyt looked easy when he demonstrated until I tried to do it. Instantly my other nine fingers turn into thumbs. Nevertheless, I have hope that practice will one day allow me to say, "I made that.", with pride instead of having to mumble that I'm just learning. One day someone will catch on that I am still 'practicing' the pay job I've had my whole life and 'just learning' the hobby I've had for 10 years.
Some people never share what they have learned. They give a recipe with a critical ingredient left out so that yours will never taste the same or as good. One maker of jewelry refuses to teach because then she would not be in total command of a technique she will probably die of old age before a pupil could master her technique as she has. My mother used to try to teach me to cook with 'knead the dough until it feels right' but the elusive 'right' was never explained. It took hours to get to the criteria she used to use to know it was right, it seemed so natural to her. I've often wondered whether that will ever happen for me, convinced that it won't.
Always fearful that I will forget something, I take copious notes. The writing of them, and consequent reading as I write, puts the information into my brain in deeper storage than just hearing it or watching processes does. The good part is that I can re-read my notes to prepare for the 'someday when I get time to do this again' mantra that echoes in my head.
Some people never share what they have learned. They give a recipe with a critical ingredient left out so that yours will never taste the same or as good. One maker of jewelry refuses to teach because then she would not be in total command of a technique she will probably die of old age before a pupil could master her technique as she has. My mother used to try to teach me to cook with 'knead the dough until it feels right' but the elusive 'right' was never explained. It took hours to get to the criteria she used to use to know it was right, it seemed so natural to her. I've often wondered whether that will ever happen for me, convinced that it won't.
Always fearful that I will forget something, I take copious notes. The writing of them, and consequent reading as I write, puts the information into my brain in deeper storage than just hearing it or watching processes does. The good part is that I can re-read my notes to prepare for the 'someday when I get time to do this again' mantra that echoes in my head.
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