The light of the one bedroom apartment lit by the tropical sun through the Venetian blinds lit the image of my drawing taken from a scene in a Dungeons and Dragons book.

"Now put the glass over the drawing and drip the wax along the border of the design and build up the middle until there is relief. Then cut it off the glass and build up the flat backside."

This was long and tedious, but I got most of it done, the rest my mom helped me with. The weeks after we dropped it off at Nikko's jewelers in Ala Moana seemed to last forever, but the day came when the rough castings came back. Brass figures dulled from the casting process, became my first introduction to the polishing wheel and I'll never forget the spattering of the tripoli polish over my face. It's something I often think about while I'm polishing now. I wonder how come I no longer feel the spatter of dust, have I lost all of my feelings? Then I remember I've installed a dust shield on my polishing lathes. Upgrades in tooling kick ass.

My wax carving technique changed dramatically when I learned that most carvings are released from a block, not build like a sand drip castle, but the magic that my mom showed me of creating from nothing however is a feeling I have not lost.

There are many techniques of jewelry manufacturing, all of them take years to learn. I've spent two years just engraving letters into gold, and have  finally begun to feel confident at it, I guess it will take two more years of doing it every day before I feel have mastered it. Gem setting I've done for 12 years, I've definitely pushed the envelope of techniques in this department because I feel it is the best way to make a statement. Still I can do better. I can always do better. I am driven every day to be better by many factors. Most of them are all about the love I get from my wife, son, and customers, but one of those factors is a letter I received from my mom ranting about the lack of quality in the pieces I made at Engle and Morgan. (It's like having a mad coach from the sidelines yelling at you, for some like me this technique works.) While I'm  sure there were a few bombs I've made, I know this not to be entirely true as I maintain most of the pieces I made at Engle and Morgan during routine checkups when the customers bring them in to Soulmates and they appear fine even after 10 years of constant wear.  The letter still inspires me in some sick way. Never mind successes I'm writing to apologize to my mom for my failures.

I'm sorry I couldn't be all things, mostly I'm sorry I wasn't mature enough to run the show on my own. I blame myself for making jewelry that was too heavy to make a substantial profit, and crafted them using the techniques I had been taught or picked up by watching other jewelers that were not masterful. Since then refinements have been made, but again that I'm sure is part of the road to becoming a master jeweler. The test of master jeweler in Europe is designed to fail you the first time you try, because it is the mark of a master who can pick the pieces up and recover from failure. Sorry I was a failure to you mom, but I've picked up my pieces learned from it and moved on. The only thing I've kept the same is I still give the customer too much metal, something I almost never get complaints about, and  so what if it cuts the profit and besides have you seen the photo gallery of most of the pieces I've made in just 1.5 years? Barring any major accidents that might take away the use of my eyes and hands I'm not going anywhere. 

So thank you for life. Thank you for inspiring me with those finely chosen words of yours, and schooling me in the idea  that there are definitely two sides to every story. Thanks for the trip to France, and the '89 Prelude (that I still drive), and the Rolex I don't wear .  I'd thank you for more but you took it all back.

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