A New Beginning
By: Myra Schwartz
Myra at her work table in her studio.
I used to be what's called a semi-professional artist, doing work that satisfied the need to create, but only occasionally selling at art fairs or to a private customer. Selling work would supplement the income of my "real" job, whatever it was at the time. While I benefited from most of my jobs, and paid rent and bills easily, something deep down was always missing. I believed I had the ability to produce crafts professionally, but I needed to trust myself to make a living.
I hated writing "Retail Manager" as my occupation on the IRS form #1040. Over the years I've worked in many media. Each was a new learning process and each one added to the next, helping to hone my design skills and sense of color in order to ultimately work with jewelry. It finally took a medical crisis to turn my life around and help me find the work I was supposed to be doing all along.
I have had a rare blood disorder for more than 20 years. Living with this cloud over my head affected me deeply. There was always a sense of ominous uncertainty about life, but I never experienced any physical symptoms until 1990. My illness, which is called Light Chain Disease, caused my body to produce too much blood protein in my bone marrow. Considered a rare form of circulatory tumor, I had mild chemotherapy on and off for two years, but over time, this excess blood protein slowly clogged and destroyed most of my kidney functions. I now require dialysis in order to live.
This procedure takes about 10 hours a week, including my commute to a hospital hemodialysis unit, but will eventually take 15 hours or more as my kidneys continue to fail. While I am very grateful for a second chance at life, it has been a slow adjustment. I had ample time to read up on kidney disease before dialysis began. However, the reading didn't prepare me for the anemia, exhaustion and pain involved in being hooked up to the machine with 14 gauge needles, and the slow erosion of other organs in the body which depend on healthy kidneys to work properly.
When I first became ill with symptoms, my life was in chaos. Not only was I preparing for life on dialysis, but also I was in and out of hospitals, with high fevers, infections, transfusions, biopsies and surgeries. If that wasn't enough, I was also going through a divorce, the company I worked for at the time was in bankruptcy, and I was, facing unemployment.
The stress was unbelievable, but somehow I learned to laugh at the absurdity of so much at once. Surely I could write an Emmy-winning storyline for a daytime soap opera! I quickly discovered that having a sense of humor would become one of my strongest guiding forces.
Life is filled with questions, but it is also filled with answers. Sometimes the answers come first so you need to delve deep to understand them. This is where I found myself during crisis. For years, people had been telling me that I should make jewelry, but I didn't give it much thought.
When I turned 40, there was a party. Every person there brought me a piece of jewelry! I began to believe there was a message. One necklace in particular had an inspirational effect on me. As I studied it, I began to think about making my own jewelry. I recognized that I had an innate need to create. I needed to breathe life into something, especially when I felt that life was being taken from me. My body was in chaos, and my future seemed uncertain. I needed to find some structure, some joy and some peace.
The love of creating, using my own hands, was the first activity I remember that truly brought me contentment and happiness as a child. As an adult, it was always with me in some form, but I was afraid to make the full commitment, afraid I couldn't make a living. So, when I asked myself those deep questions, the answers were always right there with me. Even the root materials were there, as I remembered I had beautiful old beads and silversmith supplies hidden away in storage since the 1970's. How strange it seemed when I knew exactly where to find them, even though I hadn't given them a thought in 25 years. They patiently waited for my inevitable return. I began playing with my old materials; then I began designing some jewelry, something I had only touched upon years ago. I found it deeply satisfying, stress-free and peaceful.
At first, I thought it was just something to take my mind off of my problems. Then, family and friends began asking for pieces. I am fortunate to have an extremely supportive network of loving people; it seemed that everyone wanted to help me get started in a new, rewarding life. Several relatives and friends had showings of my jewelry in their homes, inviting their friends. One cousin took a case of my jewelry to several stores and sold almost every piece. I began working a little more each day and soon I had enough for a showing at my studio, a large room in a house I share with another generous cousin. Everyone I knew brought people, and I sold over $2,000 worth of my jewelry! I began to believe that I could make a living.
From that point, everything fell into place. I redesigned my life, and created a business that used skills closest to my heart. Each new crisis became a catalyst for change, pushing me to start fresh.
I became immersed in beads, using my old collection and buying ancient, vintage European and new glass beads. I researched bead history and culture, and became fascinated with the lore, symbols and historic significance of these small objects. I discovered there isn't a culture in history that hasn't produced, worn or loved beads. They embodied time and culture--one tiny piece of the world with a hole to see through. The view became clear. I began learning how to engineer beads into a variety of wearable pieces of jewelry. It was exactly what I needed to help heal my body and spirit. I lost my problems and myself by finding this new voice. I felt as if I had finally found my true creative "home," and it was very exciting.
My business, which is called "Phases," symbolizing a new start in life was beginning. I began using dormant skills, such as color theory and photography. I developed marketing ideas and materials, photographed my finished pieces, developed business contacts and learned how to keep my books. I found that I had good business instincts and enjoyed wearing all the necessary hats.
Adjusting to the isolation of studio work was difficult at first, as I had been used to working with a staff and always considered myself a social creature. However, I loved my workspace with its sunshine, music and all the color and texture of my beads. While I worked almost every single day, I enjoyed the flexibility on all those days when my energy level was poor or when there were innumerable doctor appointments or dialysis treatments. The balance in my life had to change out of necessity. Today I can't imagine myself doing any other kind of work except that which is creative and self propelled.
With regular dialysis treatments, I began to feel better. A miracle drug called Epo gave me back my energy and built up my anemic blood. Within a few months, doctors discovered that my blood disorder was in remission, an unexpected and still continuous side effect from dialysis. As my health improved, I began getting out and taking classes and joined an active bead society, which brought in other designers to speak and conduct workshops. These new activities provide me with a social network of other designers, a creative forum, as well as the opportunity to learn new skills to add to my jewelry.
I truly enjoy my work, something I haven't been able to say in years. I love the playful part of moving things around and looking for new juxtaposition of shape, color and texture; although most of what I do is more inner directed or intuitive.
When I successfully join play and intuition, I create something exciting that satisfies deep down. Sometimes, a piece is narrative, dealing with a personal issue such as dialysis, divorce, starting life over, or not being able to have children. I keep some of these pieces for myself. Many of my personal issues cross over into the work I sell. For example, when I noticed images of hands and hearts appearing in my work, I realized they were symbols of healing and love not only for me but many people responded positively. These symbols have an ancient history and are universal.
When I allow my psyche to speak, the end result often represents a visual fragment of my life experience, even though I don't set out to recreate that. I believe the psyche holds deep truth and meaning which is essential in expressing ourselves. This is how my dialysis necklace came to be.
Whenever I wear my dialysis necklace, people always stop me on the street to see it closer, but I rarely tell strangers what it is about. My "issue" pieces are like therapy for me. I never know exactly what's going to come out of a project, but after asking myself lots of questions, I understand both the piece and myself better. Call it psyche or subconscious, but when I realize a new project is full of these inner symbols, I find it very fulfilling. It's as if I've released something carried for a long time. It is both freeing and energizing, contributing to a continuous process of transformation.
It's been over four years since I started Phases, and I'm still at it. I've been fortunate to have many small successes in the Chicago area. I've been approached by major stores for jewelry trunk shows and have a list of boutiques and stores that continue to buy from me.
The Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago carries my jewelry in their stores year-round, and I do seasonal demonstrations for them on jewelry techniques, as well as educational exhibits using some of my bead collection. The kids who visit the museum are very responsive and love to hold my 4,000-year-old beads in their hands. I always have a great time when I'm there.
Although dialysis and fluctuating energy levels keep me from doing too many shows, I've been able to concentrate on wholesaling. I don't know whether I'll ever be financially wealthy, but I do feel successful both personally and professionally. Today, I look and feel healthy most of the time. Occasionally, there is a health setback, but generally I feel optimistic about a long and good life ahead. I love the feeling of doing what I want and when.
As far a business goes, my profits have grown each year. This year I bought my first computer and have been teaching myself how to use it--one small frustrating, yet exciting, step at a time. I love exploring new skills and feel great accomplishment in learning the basics of my computer.
After spending 30 years searching for the right medium, it was a combination of life's most stressful events all rolled up together that forced me to recognize this great passion. I've learned that optimism and humor help open the proverbial doors when a passage seems blocked. Beads and jewelry have helped me come back to an active life that holds creativity as its essence. I have found the kind of work that is necessary to feed my soul. No longer mired down by sickness and sadness, I have once again found some balance. My life is interesting and full of routes I have never expected. Today, I have a greater appreciation for life and love than ever before. I now understand what it means to find and follow one's passions. For me, this includes designing jewelry that feels good, looks beautiful, and satisfies my inherent need to create. I feel great joy when customers tell me my work provides some creative nourishment for them as well.
Myra Schwartz is a bead and jewelry artist living in Deerfield, Illinois. You can contact her at sppts@aol.com . Permission to reprint article from The Crafts Report, November 1996 issue.
Last updated on: February 22, 2008