I have become a little obsessed and, while this is not unusual, it is not normally so much fun. At least in making beads I have retained a measure of self-control to prolong the pleasure and limited myself to one batch a day.
I admit that these beads are rather organic in nature but that appeals to me. The process is evident in the result, from faint fingerprints to nail impressions, off-center holes to imperfect shapes. I could sand them to remove some of these imperfections but in making them more uniform I think they would lose something. A measure of their value, at least to me, is in their individuality. I formed them with my own hands and although someone else could use exactly the same products in the same combination they will not produce an identical item.
The pinnacle of this process for me is my son's reaction to the beads I make. He has said he would like to keep some just to look at and has been offering me names for them. Some suggestions, such as Ocean Beads and Chocolate Beads, I may use but I think the ill-fated Meat Beads (as he says they look like the steaks Alex the lion eats in Madagascar) will be quietly shelved.