I have embarked on a journey which I am very, very excited about: Metalworking.

The origin of my interest in this pursuit goes way back to the early days of my divorce.  When I would go to Bozeman to visit, I would either have the very best time or the very worst time, resulting in some very memorable and tearful drives home.  I think a lot of my perception of my experience in Bozeman would reflect how things went between Joe and I.  Which is not to say that Joe was the reason I went to Bozeman.  I would visit friends and family, trail run, ski, inhabit some favorite old haunts, and occasionally indulge in a trysty fling.  However, there was always a little static in the background, and that static was the knowledge that Joe was somewhere nearby.   I viscerally wanted peace between us, and let me be the first to say that if you don’t find peace in your marriage, you almost certainly won’t find it in your divorce!  Alas, sometimes I would go to Montana and Joe and I would behave as though we were still together.  Othertimes our visits were more organic and involved activities such as skiing– and it would feel like we were actual friends.  On other occasions we would meet for coffee and cordially catch up, like two divorced parties on their best behavior.  And then there were times where one or the other of us wouldn’t return the other’s text messages or calls, where one of us would want to feel romantic again and the other would  be involved with someone else, where one of us would be mean for no reason (or possibly for the timeless reason of dealing the other person a bad hand in the name of revenge).  The interesting thing was that I had a compulsion to reach out every time I found myself in Montana, regardless of the experience we had previously.  And you just never knew what the interaction would bring.  It was like a Magic 8 Ball was writing the script.  Shake shake shake…. Better not ask.  It is certain.  It is decidedly so.  Don’t count on it.  Concentrate and ask again. Etc!  Whenever I found myself pulling into town, I would ask myself if it would be wise to reach out, and almost always I would.  I would do this under the guise of “never being afraid to be the person who loves more.” But in reality I was a goddamned kamikaze.  The very last time Joe and I got together I had a friend who was like “WTF are you doing.  Please don’t do this.” And I was like, “Nope.  If the ship is going down, I’m gonna go down with it.  I am gonna ride it to the bitter end.”  And oh boy did I.

Car loaded to the gills for a desert trip. Except I pulled over (pictured here) and decided to swing the truck North instead…

So what the hell does this have to do with metalworking, you ask impatiently.  Well, I developed a system wherein no matter how badly my time in Bozeman went, I would salvage it in the 11th hour by going to my favorite local art shops and I would pick out one set of earrings.  I know this sounds materialistic, but mind you, I was a very poor medical resident with a lot of debt and I only made it to Bozeman every handful of months.  This was an epic treat for me, requiring basically all of my expendable income, a decadence that I never would have allowed myself under any other circumstances.  So no matter how wonderful or soul crushing my time in Montana was, I would round it out with a set of artisanal earrings and that made it all worth it.

When residency was drawing to a close I found myself with more time on my hands than I was accustomed to.  I often told my partner Jimmy (now husband) how I would like to learn to make metal jewelry.  I tossed around the idea of taking a course, but then never got around to it.  Over the years Jimmy has continued to surprise me with jewelry that he picks up for me at art shows and various markets.  He knows I am a sucker for small batch jewelry.  This year, rather than purchase a bracelet or set of earrings for me, he outdid himself and bought be some tools to try soldering with.  And soldered I have!  I am loving doing this creative thing that takes a lot of attention, patience and vision.  I am a real newb at the craft, but am whole heartedly enjoying this literal trial by fire.  Dare I go so far as to say that this could be the “silver” lining of a very challenging time in my life?  (See what I did there?)