My son calls me a Renaissance woman because I get myself into all sorts of pursuits, explorations, and “I wanna try it!” phases. I’m sure he remembers me revving up our jigsaw as I constructed the wall panels in our old bathroom. Of course, he was my guinea pig for my Italian and Japanese cooking. He also saw me put on hiker boots and a 50-lb backpack after I got tired of charcoal sketching.
When I moved to the US, I made sure I kept him posted on my endeavors into freelance writing, handmade journals, and bead jewelry. Our latest conversations were about my stock photography sales and polymer clay techniques.
Yesterday, I showed him these photos of my new creations — stuff I never thought I could make with “My Mother’s Hands“:
[Click on image for hi-res version.]