Journey of a Jeweler

a journey into fashion decorating style and life with jeweler lisa lehmann

Lisa Lehmann Designs, formerly StudioJewel

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Words and Muffins and Jewelry

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There are a lot of words in my head. Words that want to come out. But they don’t know where they fit. I’m a jewelry artist. This is the blog on my jewelry page. I’m supposed to talk about jewelry. Right?

I’m supposed to talk about jewelry. Right?

But I don’t. I talk about jewelry everywhere else. On Instagram. On Facebook. On Twitter. To my friends. To my family. To myself (don’t judge).

So here in this blog. Do I give you jewelry or give you muffins? Do I talk about birthstones or depression? Do I share my heart or my passion?

Or can I do both? I wanted to attach a poll. But I don’t know how. Will you do me a favor and either leave a comment or send me an email.

Just choose one:

  1. Only write about jewelry. All jewelry. All the time.
  2. I want to hear your heart and your passion. I want your struggles and your recipes.
  3. How about a mix of both?

If you are here, reading this…you’ve stuck with me…since I’ve barely written in a year. But those words? The ones in my head and in my heart? They ache just like a new jewelry design. And I want to know what you think. I really do.

For today I’m giving you muffins.

  • One. Because they are In.Sane. So good. (and completely sugar free)
  • Two. Because I love cooking and baking and overall kitchen creating.
  • Three. Because I want to share something with you and muffins seemed like a good place to start.

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Graduation. Letting Go. And stepping stones.

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It’s that time of year. All we hear about is graduation. Tents pop up in people’s lawns.  Open House signs everywhere. So much celebrating.

This year it’s near and dear to my heart. Again. Time number three. Daughter number two. I feel like I’m watching time whip past my eyes and only once in a while it comes into focus. Everything moves so fast.

But. Instead of being sad and wistful. I’m choosing to be giddy and excited. This time in her life unlike any other. It’s her first big step out of the nest. It’s a step towards independence. It’s a step towards spreading her wings. Finding her voice. Following her path. It’s a stepping stone towards her future and I’m thrilled for her.

The stepping stone band is perfect. It marks a journey. NOT a destination.

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the icy cold of winter buries deep inside my broken

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Winter. She seeps into every bone of our body. She takes away our breath. She numbs every appendage. Chilling us from the outside in.
Maybe you don’t live in a frigid atmosphere. Maybe winter is just a season. Something that becomes part of the “after Christmas mess”. Maybe it’s the part of the empty. The longing. The gaping hole we feel in our souls. When the lights are down. When the happiness seems to dissipate. When the Joy seems to go way.
This is winter. This is her icy grasp. This is her song.

Winter. She seeps into every bone of our body. She takes away our breath.

the icy cold of winter buries deep inside of my broken

I sit cross-legged. Socks pulled up high. Boots on inside to keep the chill away from my bones. The struggling fire crackles next to me. Begging for attention. I poke at it every so often. Moving logs so they can breathe better and feed the fire.

I remember watching my father light a fire hundreds of times. Open the flue. Stack the kindling. Add the logs. There was a method. A deliberateness. He would roll the newspaper into the perfect cone shape…strike the match and let the eager flame lick up the dry paper. Then, before it was completely engulfed, he would gently warm the flue. The fire would be racing towards his fingers, but with a graceful flip of the hand land on top of the warming logs. He was a magic fire maker in my eyes. The logs would come to life, glowing, snapping. Sometimes I even got to strike the match. It was like being invited into some sacred ceremony. I could feel the importance. I often struggled with a match. My fingers not quite as adept as they are now. Nervous. And those tall matches. They were not easy to hold in my tiny hands. But he was patient with me. I loved those moments.

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Another year. Another mountain. Grab my hand.

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We did it! We survived an entire year. Maybe you not only survived. Maybe you thrived. Perhaps you feel like you limped across the finish line declaring victory over yet another year. Possibly it was just that…another year. No matter what…we have entered a brand new year!

happy-new-year-2017

I will admit I have had all the feels. Excitement. Fear. Sadness. Apprehension. Elation. But yesterday I felt mostly overwhelm. I’m standing at the bottom of the mountain. And as ambitious as I am..and trust me…I can be crazy tenacious…it’s quite disconcerting.

I even thought in my head…how do you eat an elephant, Lisa? One bite at a time. And then I laughed at myself for actually giving myself a pep talk that involved an elephant! But yet. It’s true. Right? We can only do one thing at a time. One task. One goal.

We can only do one thing at a time. One task. One goal.

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The Best Chocolate Chip Cookies. And grounding yourself with the act of baking.

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I’m sitting at my desk trying to write. Trying to read. Feeling the general monotony of routine. Feeling my eyes grow heavier with every single word. I think about going outside for a walk, then I glance over my shoulder and alas, even though it’s only 6:30, it’s already dark. I feel tired. Empty. Drained.

Maybe I should have a glass of wine. Perhaps piece of chocolate. But none of that actually sounds good. I’m just….off.
Grounding. Baking. I need to bake. I need exact science. I need to follow directions.

Grounding. Baking. I need to bake. I need  exact science. I need to follow directions.

I choose to bake over cooking.  Cooking to me is easy. It’s an art form. It’s a little of this, a little of that. Knowing what flavors blend together. Tasting. Smelling. Not having to be so exact. It’s an experience for me.
grounding-baking-science-andthe-best-chocolate-chip-cookies-ever

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