Snowbirding 2020 Postcards: Traffic

I experience Phoenix rush hour traffic in my truck.

On Friday morning, I had to drive to Phoenix for the first day of a three-day art show. I had a setup window that required me to be there by about 7:30 AM. Because I’m camped out in the desert more than 100 miles west of there, I had to leave my camp at 5 AM.

I don’t like driving at night, but the moon was just past full and it illuminated the desert around me with a faint monochrome glow. There were few vehicles on I-10 at that hour — mostly semis — and I was able to easily maintain the 75 mph speed limit most of the way.

Google Maps
Here’s what I saw on Google Maps when I realized there was something wrong with the math.

I watched the readout on Google Maps on my iPhone as I got closer and closer to Phoenix. At one point, I noticed that the math didn’t seem right: I was moving along at 75 miles per hour and had only 38 miles to go, yet Google said it would take a full hour. How could that be? Even when I slowed down when the speed limit dropped to 65 and probably 55 in the city, I should still be able to make it in much less than an hour. Like maybe even 30 minutes.

What I hadn’t accounted for, of course, was rush hour traffic, which I experienced firsthand about 15 minutes later. Stop and go — just like I used to deal with when I had a “real job” in corporate America. I realized that it had been years since I’d been stuck in traffic like that — the kind of traffic where it takes you 15 minutes to go 3 miles. But this was traffic on steroids: at certain points, there were five lanes of vehicles completely stopped.

What was cool, however, was sitting up high in my big truck, being able to look over the tops of the sedans and compact cars ahead of me. I had never realized how much taller my truck was than the average passenger vehicle. There were few semis on this part of the road — I suspect the drivers were smart enough to exit for a truck stop breakfast instead of dealing with the mess. Instead, most vehicles were commuters with just one person per car, leaving the HOV lane pretty much open. And, as I could easily see, the red taillights went on for miles ahead of me.

I did make it to my destination on time. When I’d left camp at 4:57 AM, Google told me I’d arrive at 7:34 AM. I arrived at 7:35. That’s pretty amazing.

First Show of the 2020/21 Winter Season

Not quite what I was hoping for, but I can’t complain.

I did my first show of the season this weekend. It was a Friday through Saturday show in Wickenburg, AZ and I signed up for a few reasons:

  • I wanted to maximize the number of shows I’d do before Christmas. This was the first full weekend in December.
  • My friend Janet was showing there. It would be nice to hang out with her.
  • It was in Wickenburg, where I had other friends I wanted to visit, including one who had two small packages for me.
  • It was free. Yes, there was no fee charged to vendors.

The event was the first “Cowboy Christmas” fair at Flying E Ranch, one of the few surviving “dude ranches” in Wickenburg. It was thrown together by a crew that had little show experience but tried very hard to bring it all together. In general, I think they did a good job, especially as a first effort. They managed to bring together at least 50 vendors so there was an actual reason for people to come.

I know Janet and our other friends (Steve and Karen) who showed their work were disappointed in the collection of vendors, though. They produce fine art paintings that sell for hundreds or even thousands of dollars and they were side by side with some booths that looked like they’d be better suited at a swap meet. My work isn’t quite as “fine arty” as theirs and there were enough vendors at my level or above to satisfy me.

My Booth
Here’s my booth for the show. I had to put down my camper patio mat to provide a decent floor; the surface was well worn desert earth with just enough decomposed horse manure to give it character. What do you think of my new banner in back?

The bigger problem was the attendees. Friday was an absolute bust for me — I didn’t sell a single thing. Janet sold a few note cards. I think Steve and Karen might have sold a painting. (Their work is definitely western with lots of realistically painted horses.) There was some horsey event going on after we all closed; I didn’t know much about it and didn’t really care given that I was dealing with a cold and just wanted to rest.

Saturday was a little better. There was the annual Las Damas ride that day so there were plenty of women around — perfect audience for my work, you’d think. But although folks were looking, they weren’t really buying. I sold a silver ring early in the day and then nothing for a while. What saved me was a woman who came by wanting a pendant that matched a ring she wore. We found a stone in my collection that she liked and I made her a pendant while she walked around. Because they stone she picked was costly — $35! — the sale came to $74, bringing my daily (and show) total to a whopping $100.

As amazing as this might sound, I actually did better than Janet. I suspect that’s the only time that’ll ever happen.

Steve and Karen would up delivering a painting to some customers who had put a deposit down at an earlier show in Arizona. They were happy; they’d made some money and had two fewer paintings to pack up at the end of the show.

Of course, the show was free and they did feed us lunch every day. (I won’t go into detail on that.) And we were able to camp at the ranch walking distance from our booths for free. So I’d consider this first show a win — although a tiny one — with some revenue, free food, free camping, and no costs.

Would I do it again? It really depends on whether I have something better to do. The folks who set this up need to work on marketing if they want to do this again. A show with vendors is great, but not if you can’t get shoppers. Even though I had no costs to do this show, it’s a lot of effort to set up a booth and sit in it all day; I like to bring in an average of $250 or more per day (over show costs) on a show. And I really do think they need to be a bit pickier about what they allow to be sold. I can think of at least five booths that had no place being at a “Cowboy Christmas” event — folks setting up what looked like a garage sale. They really brought the overall quality of the show down to a level even I don’t want to be associated with.

My next show is in Phoenix and should be an entirely different kind of event. I’ll report back on that when it’s over.

Snowbirding 2020: The Big Plan

I prepare for my annual migration south, this time with a mission.

Posts in this series:
The Big Plan
The Drive Plan

This week I’m busy packing for my annual 3-month journey to points south. That means not only packing my truck and camper for the 1200-mile drive to central Arizona, but prepping my new used 12-foot cargo trailer to haul gear and work as my mobile jewelry shop. If I do everything right — and can fit everything I need into my limited storage space — I’ll have a comfortable and productive trip where I can enjoy warm weather and abundant sunshine and get to see a lot of old friends.

Trailer Inside
Here’s the inside of my trailer as I pack it. The drawers will hold materials and tools for making jewelry. The shelves in back are for my display tables, solar panels, and other necessities.

This year is different from other years, though. This year I have a mission — I plan on seeing if I can do well enough selling my jewelry at art shows to continue doing art shows. It’s a sort of make-or-break run at what could be my fourth career.

And no — despite the rumors being spread around by one of my friends (who I really do need to talk to) — I have no intention of giving up flying any time soon. But let’s be real: I can’t fly forever. It would be nice to have another career to fall back on when the time comes that I can’t make a living as a pilot anymore. If you look back, you’ll realize that I set up my flying career long before my writing career faded — and that was a very fortunate thing for me. And I didn’t exactly dive into my writing career before setting the stage during my finance career.

The Shows

So my goal this winter is to see how many shows I can do and how much money I can net doing them.

That said, I applied for ten shows covering a total of 31 days from late November through February. I was accepted to eight of them covering a total of 28 days. Of those, I accepted seven for the same 28 days. (It’s pretty common to apply to multiple shows at the same time in case you don’t get into one; I actually got accepted to two on the same weekend.) Although most of the shows are on weekends, two of them are 10 days each; for one of those shows, I’ll actually be spending 3 days at another show. Sounds confusing? It is. You can see my schedule here.

I also applied for another show in February and two more in March; I haven’t heard whether I’m in or out of any of them. I’m hoping I get the two March shows, which are both in California. It’ll give me an excuse to visit some folks I know there on my way home. If I don’t get them, I’ll apply for another show in Washington, much closer to home.

My two long January shows are weird. They’re in Quartzsite at a venue where vendors camp with their booths. I have a tiny space there to keep my costs low and I’m not quite sure that everything will fit. But the benefit is that I won’t have to move for nearly four weeks and I’ll have a full hookup for my RV that whole time. I don’t expect to sell much there — did I mention that it was a weird venue? — but I’ll be staying near friends and close to where I can stock up on stones and other supplies. Oddly, I like Quartzsite in January.

Tyson Wells and RV Show
Here’s a 2018 drone shot of Tyson Wells and the RV show across the street. I’ll be one of the vendors camped out this year for about four weeks.

Some R&R

Of course, the first half of the trip will have lots of leisure time. Although I may start with a short show in Wickenburg, I’ll be heading out to the River after that. My friend Janet and I camp out there every December and it seems that we’re getting an earlier start every year. I’m hoping to get a good site where we can camp right on the river. My kayak and fishing pole are already packed.

Campsite
This is the campsite Janet and I shared in 2017 — the year I brought my boat with me. We were there just two weeks.

I do have a mid-December show in Phoenix to attend; I’m planning on leaving my rig at the campsite with Janet and spend the weekend at a friend’s place in Gilbert. I might even coax him out to the river for a few days. We’ll see.

And I have to admit that I’m not a 9 to 5 vendor in Quartzsite, either. Although I’m open on weekends, I tend to goof off during the week, going out on photo or shopping trips in the morning and opening my booth around lunchtime. I’m sure Janet and I will play hooky at least once for a trip out to the river, too.

The Tucson Trip

After January in Quartzsite — and another show in Gilbert that I might or might not get into — I’ll go down to Tucson for about a week. I’ve signed up for four jewelry making courses with Vivi Magoo. I’m very interested in learning new things that can expand my capabilities. The classes I signed up for should do that.

I was in Tucson for just three days last year and wound up parking with my camper in casino parking lots at night. This time, I booked a week in a campground in town. I’m looking forward to being able to drop my camper while I take my classes, check out the rock shows that will be all over the city, and maybe do one or two day trips to Saguaro National Monument and the Pima Air Museum.

This is the second vacation portion of my trip, but I plan to keep pretty darn busy.

Finishing Up

The second half of February has me in two weekend-long shows in the Phoenix area. I’ve done both shows before and they were both worthwhile for me.

And that’s all I’ve got booked.

I did apply for two California shows — one in Palm Springs and the other in Borrego Springs. I applied kind of late for the Borrego Spring show last year and didn’t get in. My friend Janet did, however, and since I’d promised her I’d go there with her, we spent a few days before the show hiking among the flowers in a truly amazing superbloom. This year, with luck, we’ll both participate in the show and then I’ll head home up California’s Central Valley.

If I don’t get into either of the California shows, I might make my way home by way of Salt Lake City where I have friends I’d like to visit. Or Reno where I have other friends to visit. I can always find someplace to go or someone to see on my way home.

Prepping for the Trip

So now I’m home with just a few days left to finish packing up for my long trip. I’ll be selling jewelry locally at Pybus Public Market this weekend, so I can’t pack everything yet. But I can pack what I don’t need for that show, which is quite a few things.

Meanwhile, I’m also cleaning my house. My house sitter will be here on Monday and I like to start him off with a sparkling clean place so he rewards me with a sparkling clean place on my return. Whether I return in the beginning of March or the middle of the month depends on whether I get into those two California shows and how much I goof off on my way home. He’s prepared to stay until March month-end if necessary.

And I think that’s what I like most about my life these days. With the exception of about three months in the summer when I’m stuck at home for cherry season, I can make up the rest of the year as I go along. What’s not to like about that?

Digging Deep: Using Old Stones

My stone collecting obsession and how I’m trying to move forward.

Let’s get one thing straight from the get-go: I like rocks and always have. I’ve collected interesting rocks since I was a kid. You know — like when you’re out on a walk and you see one on the ground that catches your eye and it winds up in your pocket and later on your dresser.

Or when you’re on the beach with your family and you wind up picking up more rocks than shells and you keep them in a jar of water at home so they stay wet and shiny but become an algae-filled science experiment that disappears one day while you’re at school.

Or even in the school playground one afternoon in the 1970s when Steven Gaydos claims to have a moon rock and sells it to you for $2. (Yes, I was one of his suckers.)

Buy my jewelry!
After being encouraged (or nagged?) by too many other artist friends, I finally opened an Etsy shop to make it easy for folks to buy and for me to sell my finished pendants. It’s called MLGemstones. What I like about selling on Etsy is that it’s relatively easy to keep up-to-date — I can add pendants as I make them and remove them as I sell them — and Etsy does all the work to create for receipts and postage labels and calculate and pay sales tax.

Even when I got older and into a relationship, I collected pretty rocks. My future wasband did, too, which I always thought was natural. We’d go out in the desert and come back with a bunch of rocks. One day, while Jeeping out near Congress, AZ, we came upon a really nice, almost perfectly cubed piece of white quartz. It took three of us to get it in the back of the Jeep and it wound up in the front yard of our home. (It later disappeared; I don’t know if my wasband took it or someone looking at the house during the years it was for sale took it. I certainly had no use for it.)

Quartzsite Makes it Serious

Every year, when I lived in Arizona, I’d take at least one trip out to Quartzsite during the January rock shows. I exercised a lot of self-control in those days, but I did come home with rocks now and then. I had, by that time, seen the pattern of my rock acquisitions: find, bring home, set aside, lose, repeat. It made no sense to pay money for something I’d too quickly lose interest in.

After I moved to Washington state, I’d still go down to Quartzsite as part of my winter migration. And one year, I caught the rock bug bad.

Bacon Agate Pendant
It’s almost embarrassing to share this photo of my second pendant, but sometimes you need to look behind you to see how far you’ve come. I recently found this pendant (after misplacing it for a year) and plan to reframe it and wear it as a reminder of the rock that started it all.

It started with a rock seller giving me a nice, polished bacon agate cabochon. I had to do something with it. That’s when I started playing around with jewelry making. I was awful back then and never realized that I would get better. All I thought about then was that now that I had something useful to do with the rocks, it made sense to buy a few.

A few hundred, is more like it.

The Growing Collection

Kingman Turquoise
Kingman Turquoise with bronze is one of my best selling stones these days. I get these from a lapidary in Pennsylvania.

Since then — which was only two years ago this coming January — I’ve not only added to my collection, but I’ve begun displaying the stones in Riker boxes with felt inserts. Each box has a type of stone: jasper, agate, moss agate, jade/opal, turquoise/chrysocolla/azurite, etc. Each stone is meticulously inventoried with a tiny sticker on the back with its name, inventory number, and selling price. Yes, I now sell cabochons, too. I have become a rock dealer.

I get about half my stones in Quartzsite or Tucson every year. Honestly, I get better deals in Quartzsite so that’s where I mostly shop, starting as early as December.

I get another 45% of my stones from lapidaries — people who polish stones into the cabochons I use for my jewelry.

CabKing6
I bought one of these so I could polish local stones.

The final 5% are made in my shop. When I got rock fever bad enough, I bought a CabKing 6 cab making machine. I have a very large supply of local petrified wood and obsidian that I got in trade from a client. They both make very nice cabochons — when I have the time to polish them. Of course, once I got the machine, I started acquiring slabs of rock from all over the world so I could make my own cabochons. Unfortunately, I’ve been having trouble finding time to do that.

Selling Stones

My cabochons range in acquisition price from $1 to $20. I obviously sell them for more than that. I have them on display at venues where I sell my jewelry. I get a lot of rock lovers stopping by to look — some of them can spend 15 minutes or more at my booth looking and chatting with me. I enjoy sharing my knowledge and learning from some of them. And I love hearing their stories! I don’t even mind when they take up a bunch of my time and don’t buy anything. (The only thing I do mind is kids with dirty hands touching the tops of the display boxes. 🤯)

Fallon NV Wonderstone
This Fallon Nevada Wonderstone was one of the first “expensive” rocks I bought. I think I paid $15 for it. The pendant sold for $79 the other day.

Picasso Stone
This was the first Picasso stone cabochon I bought and I think it was the nicest. It sold last weekend.

Indian Blanket Jasper
This was one of the first 100 stones in my collection. I’ve since learned that square stones are a tough sell, but I suspect this one will eventually find a home.

Petrified Wood
I obtained this petrified wood cabochon long before I got about 100 pounds of local petrified wood in trade with one of my clients.

Ocean Jasper
I remember the day I bought this Ocean jasper cabochon and another very much like it in a Sacramento, CA bead shop. I paid too much (as I now know) but got my investment back (and more) when it sold last weekend.

Although the main reason I have the stones on display is to entice shoppers to have a custom pendant made from one of them — I can do it while they shop or have lunch — I also wind up selling a lot of stones. Just last February, I sold 20 stones over two days to a woman in Wickenburg, AZ — she came to my booth twice — and one day this past summer I sold 18 stones to a woman in Leavenworth, WA. These sales are good and bad. They’re good because I’m making money on inventory that requires no work other than cataloging and transporting. They’re bad because these folks often pick my best stones, leaving me with ones that aren’t quite as interesting or impressive. (Of course, that gives me an excuse to buy more.)

And then there are the folks who buy out my entire stock of one particular stone. I’ll see these folks at rock shows, like the one I do in Mesa, AZ every January. I discount all my cabochons by 20% to stay competitive with other rock sellers at the event. One day, a guy bought all of my K2 granite stones and the next day another guy bought all my bumblebee jasper stones. Fortunately, I went right back to Quartzsite the day after the show and was able to replenish my supplies.

Digging Deep

My stone inventory is listed by date and I still have a bunch of stones from my early days of collecting them. I’ve begun making a conscious effort to get these stones out of my inventory by making them into jewelry. And that’s what I’m showing off here: photos of stones I’ve had in my collection for over a year that I’ve finally made into jewelry.

It’s interesting to note that I started writing this blog post earlier this month when I began making these pendants. Since then, three of the five have sold. That tells me that even back when I first started collecting I had pretty good taste in stones.

Over time, I’ve learned what sells quickly and, when I get to Arizona, I’ll be stocking up on those stones. But I’ll also be on the lookout for some other beauties that I won’t be able to resist. When I find a stone I really like, I price it so high that no one wants to buy it so I can keep it as long as possible. But everyone seems to have their own idea of how much is too much and I often sell them to collectors anyway. That’s okay; it funds my future collections.

As for my current status, after buying and selling stones and pendants made from stones for nearly two years, I have 370 cabochons in my collection. Is it any wonder that rock lovers stop and stare when I have them laid out in my booth for everyone to see?

Booth Shot
My stones get their own table when I set up my jewelry booth at shows, like this Holiday Artisan Fair in Wenatchee last weekend.

A Tab-Mounted Gemstone Pendant

I make my first tab-mounted gemstone pendant.

Cabochon Definition
The definition of cabochon from Merriam-Webster dictionary.

I have about 500 gemstone cabochons in my collection these days. When customers marvel at them on display, I joke that “I make jewelry to support my stone habit.” Sadly, although it’s a pithy punchline, it’s also kind of true.

Picasso Stone Pendant
I made this Picasso Stone Jasper in sterling silver and copper pendant recently.

I use the cabochons (or “cabs”) three ways:

  • I make silver and/or copper framed pendants from cabochons I select from my collection.
  • I let customers select cabochons from my collection and make silver and/or copper framed pendants for them.
  • I sell cabochons from my collection. (Yes, I mark them up from their purchase price. No, I don’t double the cost to come up with my price.)

That Rose Quartz Cab

I purchase most of the cabochons at gem and mineral shows or directly from lapidaries. I do, however, also have a CabKing cabochon maker, which I can use to make my own cabs from rough or slabs. While I’m glad I have the CabKing, I honestly don’t use it enough to make it worth buying. The trouble is, it takes a long time to make a cab — sometimes an hour or more per stone. So unless I can’t get a cab elsewhere, it just doesn’t make sense for me to make it myself. At this point, I use it to make cabs from local stones such as petrified wood, obsidian, Ellensburg Blue agate, and Washington State jade.

But back when I first got it, I made a bunch of cabs from stones I’d bought to tumble. One of them was a piece of rose quartz that, for some reason, I’d cabbed into a triangle. (What was I thinking?) The piece sat in my collection for well over a year. It was time to do something with it.

Tab Mounting Ideas

I pulled it out on Sunday and took a good look at it. I wanted to use it with one point down, but I knew that it would look ridiculous framed in wire. And then I realized that it might be a candidate for a new (to me) technique I wanted to try: tab mounting.

Tab mounting requires you to take a piece of metal and cut tabs into it that you can then bend up and over the stone to secure it in place. I had seen a few videos about the technique and even read up on it in some of my jewelry making books. Coincidentally, I had passed on a jewelry making class in Tacoma that very weekend that covered tab-mounting. (I had already driven to the west side of the mountains three times this autumn and felt that was enough.) Maybe it was time to try it myself.

I took out a piece of paper and started sketching — which is something I rarely do. (I have no drawing skills.) I came up with an idea that might work, however, and got very excited about giving it a try. Unfortunately, I was at my day table booth in Pybus Market for the day and had agreed to meet a friend at the neighborhood winery afterwards. So it wasn’t until Monday morning, after dropping off my truck for some maintenance, that I had a chance to explore my idea.

Making the Pendant

Sketch 1
Here’s the sketch with the stone positioned on top. Because the stone was translucent, I wanted the area behind it to be mostly empty.

Sketch 2
Here’s the sketch without the stone. I shaded in the area that would be cut away.

Sketch Glued
I glued the sketch diagonally on one end of the metal strip.

After cutting
Here’s what the piece looked like after it was cut.

I started by re-sketching the idea. You see, it required a lot of cutting with a jeweler’s saw — a skill I learned last year during the three-day Beginner Intensive Metalworking class at the Tacoma Metal Arts Center. I’d been taught to take what I wanted to cut and paste it onto the metal with rubber cement. After it was cut, the paper could be peeled off.

So I traced the stone on paper, drew dashed lines to mark the center, sketched in the tabs I’d need to cut out, and then drew the pendant’s border around the stone. I shaded in the area that would be cut away, mostly so I wouldn’t make any mistake about where I cut.

Then I prepared the metal. I planned to use 22 gauge copper for this first experiment. I needed a piece approximately 2-1/4 inches wide so I cut a strip that wide with my bench shear. I wanted the metal textured and decided to use my rolling mill to keep the texture uniform. It was important to roll the copper before cutting it since rolling it tends to stretch it a bit. I picked a texture plate and rolled it out.

Next, I cut out my sketch with a pair of scissors and glued it to the textured metal. It didn’t matter which way the texture ran so I placed it on the metal to minimize waste.

Now the fun part (not!): cutting. There were two cutting techniques required for this piece:

  1. Cut around the outside of the template. This was easy — I did it with a pair of metal shears.
  2. Pierce cut along the black lines inside the pattern to remove the shaded area. This required me to drill a small hole in the shaded area (to pierce it) and then thread a thin blade on my jeweler’s saw through the hole. Then, resting the piece on my bench pin, I sawed on the lines. Although this wasn’t particularly difficult — the jeweler’s saw is made for this kind of work — it was time consuming. And I did break three saw blades. (#4/0 blades are a lot thinner than the #2 blade I use for most of my work. Fortunately, I buy all my blades in 24-blade package.)

Once it was cut out, I peeled away the paper and cleaned any remnants of glue off the piece. Then I spent a while doing my least favorite thing: filing and sanding the rough edges. One of these days, I will find the perfect tool for doing this quickly and consistently. Monday was not that day.

At this point, I could have mounted the stone and finish up. But I wanted to use another technique to add some creative elements to the metal: fusing sterling silver onto its surface. I dug into my sterling scrap bag — I recycle all my sterling silver — and pulled out a piece of 22 gauge square wire. I cut it to length and curled its ends into a pair of spirals. Then I took my beloved solder cutting tool and chopped up the remaining square wire into tiny pieces. I positioned all this silver onto various places on the textured copper and laid it out on the charcoal block at my soldering station.


I cannot say enough good things about this torch, which can supposedly reach 2500°F and doesn’t have sissy features like child-proof ignition.

I used my new Blazer Big Shot butane torch to melt the silver onto the copper. This is something I’d learned earlier in the month at a jewelry making class. It’s not difficult to do, but it does require your full attention and quick reflexes. I wanted the tiny chips fully melted but I wanted to retain the shape of the swirls. I think I did a decent job, although I wish I could have melted the left swirl a little better.

As you might imagine, the copper got very hot — glowing red. I let it cool naturally on the block for a short while, which really didn’t make sense because charcoal really holds the heat. Finally, I quenched it in some water and dried it off. It was very black. I used a 280 grit radial polisher on my flex shaft to clean it off, then repeated the process with a 400 grit polisher to give it more shine.

I was going to do some fire painting to bring some more color into the copper, but so little copper showed through the silver that I didn’t think it was worthwhile.

Finished Pendant
Here’s the almost finished piece. I still have to add a bail at the top. It’s interesting the way the silver appears shiny in some places and blackened in others. I like that look. I’ll probably make a pair of simple copper with fused silver earrings to go with it, using the same spiral motif.

So, instead, I just mounted the stone. It was easy enough to do: I pulled the four tabs forward, bending them where they joined the rest of the piece. To my utter amazement, the stone fit perfectly between them. I bent the tabs back over the stone. It was all very easy to do since the piece had been annealed when I melted the silver.

I’m very happy with the results. I know that this kind of jewelry isn’t for everyone, but neither are my sterling/copper framed cabochon pendants. I think it’s important to have a variety of items to appeal to many people. I can see making a “line” of jewelry in this style. Every piece, of course, would be different.

I can make silver pendants this way, but I can’t melt copper onto them. I’d have to use other techniques to make the pendant’s backing interesting: texturing, stamping, antiquing, etc. It’s exciting to me, in a way, because I get to try different things. When I show them at art shows, etc., I see the reaction of shoppers and learn what works and doesn’t work.