I started making gel candles to use as favors at my oldest daughter’s wedding in July of 2001, but was having so much fun by the time that the wedding came and went, I had decided to continue gelling.

As I lay here on the living room floor, (I did not slip, trip or do a Prat fall, I actually placed myself here), taking a time out so that my inner child, my inner adult, and my inner parent can peacefully come to terms with each other, I have decided to think back over my not so long, but highly intensive gel experience.

Obviously, gelling and candle making  filled some needs for me.

This seems as good a time as any to consciously review what those needs are:
1) It allows the creative person in me to dream, design and make all kinds of different candles.
2) It allows the chef side of me to create all the food masterpieces that I don’t do now because of the “empty nest syndrome”.
3) It allows the student in me to keep learning new skills and expressing thanks to those who have taken the time to direct and help me.
4) It allows the teacher in me to pass knowledge on to others and delight in their success.
5) It allows the inner child in me the chance to make huge messes and have absolute delight in what I have created.
6) It has given me an extended circle of family and friends, with whom I can share, carp, laugh and cry.
7) It allows the business/accountant in me to (oh, wait, I don’t have one of those people in me) I know: it allows the sadistic person in me to hand my big wad of papers over to an accountant and watch them sob!

There have been some negatives to gelling, however. When too many scents are present, the dog runs outside and hides in the car, so we have to make sure that the keys are not in the ignition because she is a very bright dog, but I don’t think she is on our insurance.

And the cats have, as gel candles have taken over every nook and cranny of the house, expressed their rebellion by leaving excremental deposits in inappropriate places. We have talked and I believe that phase of rebellion is past.

But as I look up and focus, I realize there are gel boogers on the living room ceiling, which is mysterious because no gelling is done in this room. The longer I stare at the ceiling and recall what I have learned from watching all those forensic science programs on television, I realize the boogers form what would be called a definite flicking pattern.

As I look over to the cats, who are watching me look at the ceiling and are snickering and elbowing each other and flexing their claws, I come rapidly to the conclusion that the rebellion has gone into another phase.

Article by Cheryl Beatty, Gel Candle Designer