Why does it seem like kid years go by faster than adult years?  That must be the case, because my baby just turned eight. As you may already know, birthdays in this house mean more birthday boxes, and I got a little pang of  excitement when I realized it was time to gift another Eight Box. The Eight Box is  a collaboration between “A” an myself, a special daddy-made birthday box filled with mama-made jewelry.

The little dude on the front? He’s a “Fruitie,” a character my girl made up and writes about frequently. You’ll see a bit more of the “Fruities” in the next few days.

Before it was a monkey house…

…it held a necklace with a husky charm, a “Power Puggy” charm (another of her frequently-drawn characters), and a Fruity.

…and a small copper ring with her initials stamped into it. In this picture, she’s peering through her new birding binoculars, looking for more birds to add to her life list. The girl’s list is already much longer than mine, and I’ve got 29.5 years on her.

Switching gears, I’d like to take a moment to thank the local public school officials for banning bringing in food treats on a child’s birthday. I know, I sound like a total party pooper, but seriously…it was getting to be a bit much. But what I don’t think the school rule-makers know is that they opened up a window for something super sweet to happen. Wanting so very badly to bring something in to school to celebrate her birthday, my girl made 29 “cyclops bixters” for her classmates, with 29 little construction paper envelopes to put them in. And she’s not the only one who has created little something’s for her classmates on her special day. All of a sudden these kids are having fun giving as a way of celebrating. Now that is a reason to celebrate.

There was a time when I was uncomfortable with even talking about my business, for fear that it would seem like I was patting myself on the back. Over the years, I have grown accustomed to self promotion, to a certain extent. I’m no longer shy about posting a new product on Facebook, or tweeting some good business news, or sending out a newsletter talkin’ up my goods. Heck, these days I even post links to interviews featuring yours truly. (and yes, the fact that there are links to all of these things is tongue-in-cheek intentional.)

Recently, a few great things happen to my business. The first is a mention in the holiday issue of Yankee Magazine (both photos). I am not ashamed to shout it out to the world. It’s exciting, validating, and just plain good for business, so why wouldn’t I?

The second is an opportunity to have a piece on the Uncommon Goods site/catalog. For me, this is huge and I was over the moon about it. Until I learned that my piece would be put in their “voting tool.” The voting tool is their way to gauge the public’s opinion on a product they are considering, as well as their way of creating “hype” around an item.  And I, like a good little egg, went out and pretty much campaigned for votes. I did it because I really want my piece in Uncommon Goods. Because this could mean big things and create even more opportunities for AG Ambroult. But boy, did it feel contrived asking people to vote for my piece, and you can bet I wasn’t asking for a “thumbs down.”

Just when I thought I was comfortable with the idea of promoting my art, my business, I was asked to take it to the next level. While it seemed a little forced, I can appreciate the value of creating buzz, and in the end, buzz is good for both me and the catalog. Right?

Sometimes it feels like I’m bragging, sometimes it feels like good business sense, and sometimes it just feels weird. I certainly don’t want to be the next Donald Trump, but I do want to continue on as AG Ambroult. And I want my business’ “brand” to reflect AG Ambroult, the person. I have to make sure I am keeping the “voice” of AG Ambroult true to the artist behind the name. As long as I am doing that, I’ll call this little venture of mine a success.

Do any of you ever feel uncomfortable with self promotion? I’d love to hear about it.

I have a friend. A friend I have “known” for about three years now. A friend whose children I have watched grow, whose accomplishments I have cheered, whose drive I have admired. Yet, until a few weeks ago we have only known each other in the cyber world. As luck would have it, Valarie, of “A Place Like This” came to Boston, and we spent a couples of day together.

It started with a tour of the USS Constitution where we met in person for the very first time. We explored the ship and learned some fascinating facts but the highlight for some of us was playing on the giant weights in the shipyard. They came this close to moving those.

Later that day Valarie and two of her kids came to our house for dinner. We ate, chatted, and laughed like we were family. The younger kids broke the ice with a puppet fight and moved on to some Lego building. After a little resistance and lots of talk about how “rusty” she is on the keys, we convinced Valarie to play the piano for us. Let me tell you, folks, if that was her “rusty” then I don’t know what to think. She’s amazing.

Her boy, “O” spent much of the night as my husband’s apprentice, which was equally as thrilling for each of them. Alex had someone to enthusiastically babble on about woodworking with, “O” had someone willing to teach him how to use the tools and show him the process behind a finished product. And that boy has a love for learning like none other. When he and Alex were done in the wood shop, “O” and I went to my shop and he tried his hand at soldering, hammering, and bending metal. I see a future in the skilled crafts for him.

Meanwhile, Valarie’s older daughter, “Zuzu” told stories of exciting things in her near future, and she beams with potential, enthusiasm and a surprising amount of insight for a twenty-three year old.

We snuck a “girls only” picture while the menfolk were in the wood shop, and later got a great one of the whole group too. We said our goodbyes and promised we would meet up again someday. Well, that day ended up being a week later, because Valarie and “O” joined us for apple picking! You can read all about our day at the orchard here, at Valarie’s blog.

While meeting people you know from online is generally something we tell our kids to avoid, I highly recommend it! Here’s to friends, “cyber” or in person, or otherwise.

I banned a word from my household.

Masterpiece.

I don’t wanna hear it again. But the sorry truth is, I was the one who started saying it. “oh, sweetie! What a beautiful drawing! It’s a masterpiece!”

So, like any kid who hears time and again that their art/writing/music is a masterpiece, my girls started thinking that everybody considers their work the be-all end-all. They started saying things like, “when will they play my song on the radio?” “When will they hang this in the museum, Mama? It’s a masterpiece, right?” Of course they assume these things, I mean, I practically brought each and every piece to the MOMA myself, hammer and nail in hand. I’m positive Simon Cowell would be blown away by my girls’ talent, and I’m tempted to get on the phone with Random House Publishing to see if I can secure them a book deal…

It wasn’t long before I realized I had to check my praise, lest I end up with two little girls walking around thinking they’re the next Renoir, Steinbeck, and/or Beethoven, when really they would be on the fast track to becoming the next Lindsay Lohan.

When the girls were babies, “A” and I listened to an NPR story that talked about the way parents encourage their kids. At one point, the parenting trend was to say things like “You can be anything you want!” “You can do anything!”  “Of course you can win/succeed/achieve!” Problem was, this resulted in an era of kids who grew up thinking that yes, they can do anything, without ever considering the fact that they would have to work for it.

After hearing that, we decided we would emphasize hard work, effort, practice, the ol’ try, try again. Our girls now know, with complete certainty, that they will have to put their nose to the grindstone and work for what they want. And if they choose to do so, they could study, practice and persevere so that, yes, perhaps one day their work will be in a museum.

I’m their mother, and it’s my right to think every creative thing they do is pure perfection. I delight in every detail of what they make, and I praise them to a certain extent but nowadays, I stop myself before I declare it the “M” word. But, between you and me, when the girls go to bed at night, “A” and I ogle and shake our heads in admiration at that their latest achievement. Their seminal work. Their masterpiece.

A peek behind the scenes

This post isn’t one about metalsmithing or the techniques I use or the pieces I make. No, this edition of “Notes” is a peek behind the scenes of an arts festival. Here I am, in all my glory. Not exactly what you expected? Let me explain. Most days at a show/market are long, but the frequent conversation with customers and your neighboring vendors keeps the day moving along at a steady pace. All in all it is a pleasant experience and these markets are a great way to make a living. But some days…

photo courtesy of weehah!

Some days your tent is located next to the stage and the speakers are pointed directly at your tent so you cannot hear your customers. Then you realize you don’t have any customers because of the music and the tragic volume level. And the band is a teenage garage band, who appears to never have rehearsed, ever. So you stop caring if someone steals all your product, lay down in a tiny spot behind your display and pretend it’s not really happening, begging the good lord to please. let the band. be. done. Eventually, your prayers are answered, customers come back to your tent and seagulls in the sky never sounded so delightful.

On to the next show I go!