Liver of sulfur. It smells like rotten eggs. Every time I use it my boyfriend asks, "are you cooking something in there?" Slightly insulting considering the first thing I just told you about it... he's just concerned because there may or may not have been some times where I accidentally have left the stove on... orrr the back door open all day, orrr the garage open all night, my pickle pot (crock pot) plugged in.. no need to continue, I think we get the point.
Liver of sulfur oxidizes metals like silver, copper, and brass... it is what adds that awesome black color in all of the creases and details of your metalwork. Unfortunately, liver of sulfur can "die." At least that's what I call it. If you get any moisture in your container or on a piece and don't realize it, it will kill the whole jar and render it useless.
Here's a little look at some dead sulfur not doing it's job of oxidizing. Sometimes I'll throw it in there hoping the middle is still alive. No such luck tonight.
When the pickle is still good, it colors the water a nasty mustard yellow and your metal goes all mat black. When its dead, it's a funky off-white pasty looking floaty poopy yucky useless whatever and your metal does... nothing. Hooray.
Downtown PHX's area code is 602 and is also the home of my favorite little boutique owner, Rachel Malloy- her boutique named after her grandmother, Bunky. If you have ever read my bog I'm sure you know this and probably get the sense that I favor her. You're spot on, buddy. Rachel is awesome. Rachel has helped raise against the grain from a little unknown seedling, and Rachel is also a super bad ass, which kind of goes along with her being awesome. Tonight, I have been working on pieces for Rach, which is the most fun because she pretty much lets me do whatever the hell I want to. Is anything better than that? No.
Trust. I like to think that is why she lets me do this... plus if she hated anything she could probably just hide it away and then tell me it didn't sell. Now I'm wondering if that has ever happened... I may need to send her an email. ;)
Her and I write about 100 emails back and forth a day. You know... talking about worky things, jewelry, sales, her cats, the brown man (no i'm not being racist... Rachel is married to a man who wears all brown...everyday...every time I see him... he drives around a brown truck and delivers brown packages to people all day...) I mean this guy, he REALLY likes brown. Sometimes I wonder if his closet looks like that of a cartoon, 10 of the same outfits hanging side by side as he wears the same outfit as those that are hanging... oh, hey Jim :)
Represent! This necklace will be on it's way over to the boutique in the morn. Sometimes I like ta talk like country folk. Say stupid things, leave the last few letter offa words, chew on things like toothpicks pretendin' they oats, and ride mah dang dog around the kitchen like she mah horse.
She doesn't like it... I think she's just being lazy.
For some reason whenever Austin mocks me he gives me a high pitched new jersey accent that sounds like it's coming from a 50 year old, worn out, Jew. Now that you know all the weird facts that are vital to your existence, I must sleep.. orrr watch a show that I am currently obsessed with and way to embarrassed to reveal. Night!
oh... p.s. this (unattractive post-gym) photo is a snap shop (from my computer) of how I wrote this entire blog post. No forehead comments (I'm quite aware of it's size), please and thanks.
The boy says I'm turning her to mush... I say, she's turning me to mush. Freaking love bug of the universe.
The little man usually does his own thing.