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My Journey with Metalworking and Pearls: Reflections on Craftsmanship and Life

Today is September 29th. October is just around the corner. Recently, I’ve been dedicating myself to practicing metalworking.

Even though I’ve been spending time on it, it’s still quite difficult to create something truly captivating.

In general, I don’t make detailed plans. Instead, I figure out my goals as I go along. Fundamentally, I think the belief that “things don’t go as planned” is deeply ingrained in me.

As for metalworking, right now I’m trying to create a piece of jewelry that can make Akoya Keshi pearls look more attractive, but I haven’t decided exactly what I want to make yet. That’s because I lack the necessary skills. While carving silver, I’m exploring my own traits and assessing my current abilities. It’s like a cloud that constantly changes shape.

Even if you want to head north on a motorcycle, the road doesn’t always point north. You might have to go east, west, or even south, but eventually, after taking the long way around, you’ll reach your destination up north.

The same goes for conversations with colleagues, friends, and parents—things don’t always go as expected.

Especially with metalworking, I’m still very much a beginner. Plus, I’m quite clumsy. But as I fumble my way through, I believe I’ll eventually create something captivating.

I think I’m writing all of this because the piece I attempted today didn’t turn out well. I spent two precious hours, but the result wasn’t great. I realize now that I’m probably writing this to encourage myself.

When I started learning All-knot, I was constantly struggling with tangled threads. It was a series of tough challenges that required tremendous effort, leading to repeated failures and moments of despair. Well, “despair” might be an exaggeration. No one’s unhappy just because threads get tangled.

Regardless, it was a difficult process, but at the same time, an enjoyable one. I like the process of putting in 90% effort for that 10% moment of satisfaction.

It’s the same with practicing the guitar. You repeat finger exercises hundreds of times, almost mechanically, and when you finally manage to play something, you get a brief sense of accomplishment. Then, it’s on to the next piece.

On a different note, my pearl products are essentially all one-of-a-kind. About 90% of the blue-toned pearls I use come from an island near the border of Japan and Korea. For me, knowing exactly where the pearls are from and who produced them is very gratifying. It fosters a sense of attachment to the pearls.

That’s why, when my pearls are ordered and shipped off to places like North America or Europe, I find myself feeling a little envious. It’s quite moving to think about these pearls, originating from a small island, embarking on their journey abroad.

Of course, it’s not unusual for pearls produced in Japan to be exported to China via Hong Kong. But when I think about the mother Akoya oysters that gave birth to these pearls, and the care they received from the employees at the pearl farms, I feel a deep connection to them.

And fortunately, these pearls are transformed by my hands into necklaces or earrings, and accepted by customers, eventually traveling to various countries. When I reflect on this, I start to think that I might not be cut out for business.

Moreover, it’s not just the pearls; now the pouches made from my mother’s handmade kimonos are also accompanying the pearls on their journey. Personally, I find this kind of intimate connection very comforting.

In line with that, I also want to be able to make the metal fittings myself through metalworking. Lately, I keep saying things like, “I want to make my own metal fittings.” Another side of me whispers, “You’ve got the ideal, so just start practicing already!”

However, this weekend, I gave in to the desire to see Lulu and ended up returning to my parents’ house. Lulu, the dog who lives with my parents, is adorable. My will to practice metalworking was defeated by Lulu this weekend.

Though I visited Lulu on Saturday, I did manage to practice a bit of metalworking on Sunday.

Additionally, although I hesitated, I ended up returning home on Friday, and by coincidence, my older brother also came home that same day. Even though we’re siblings, it was quite a coincidence. My mother was very pleased.

And on an unrelated note, today, Sunday, my mother finally replaced the refrigerator at home, which she had used for 22 years. It seems she took advantage of my brother’s visit. My father is very traditional and conservative. When it comes to replacing the refrigerator, he’s quite resistant. My mother couldn’t persuade him on her own, but my father listens to my brother.

I’m disappointed that I wasn’t there to witness this historic moment. Apparently, the day after I returned to Kobe, my brother and mother went to the electronics store to pick out a new refrigerator.

As I write this, I realize this is probably quite unimportant to others. In short, the person making pearl products at this shop comes from a very ordinary family. According to my mother, many of the families in our neighborhood also replace their refrigerators about once every 20 years, though I can’t verify that.

Shifting topics again, today I was searching for blue-toned Akoya pearls on Etsy. There was a shop selling a perfectly round, highly lustrous, deep blue necklace for around $500. I was tempted to buy it myself.

Previously, a customer once asked me if a pair of Madama earrings for $100 was real. Even back then, round, lustrous, unblemished Madama pearls in a rich color cost more than $400.

This isn’t limited to pearls, but buying things online comes with many risks. Sellers want to present their products as valuable as possible, but overdoing it deceives buyers. However, the seller also needs to convey the product’s quality appropriately. In that sense, photography is very tricky.

Even with pearls, you can make them look better than they really are through photography. But if you go too far, you end up disappointing the customer. They’ll likely mention it in their reviews, and that will come back to me.

On the other hand, if you’re bad at taking photos, no one will buy from you. For me, taking appropriate photos of pearls is a real challenge.

Well, it’s getting late, so I’ll wrap it up here for now. Thank you as always.

Jem

Jem

I am part of a Japanese company with an Akoya pearl farm. Apart from the company, I personally run an Akoya pearl shop. I would appreciate it if I could share smiles with various people through pearls.

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