Before there was J. L. Lawson & Co., I had a small jewelry line I was trying to build. I had a cool brand name, logo, imagery, website with decent sales, good sales with a local retail store and some online stores. I learned the basics of jewelry making and had some pretty cool and mildly popular pieces with a small newsletter following of about 800 people. I plugged away at this for a few years while still maintaining my day job. The plan was to build it until I was making enough to support myself and then quit my job to really get after it. Selling handmade goods had been a dream of mine for years and it seemed I was on the right road. There was one major problem, I don't care about jewelry. It's just not my thing. I enjoyed making it but I wasn't passionate about the final piece. I wouldn't wear any of it and didn't even really talk about it much with friends and family. That said, there was one piece of jewelry that I wore daily, the ring that my dad made for me. I didn't think of this as jewelry but a cool machined part that had a story. I was asked about it at least once a week and I loved telling the story behind it. So, one day I decided to scrap all that I had built with the jewelry brand and start over with something I was truly passionate about. I wasn't making life changing money but it was fairly steady and I had put a ton of sweat equity into it but I realized it wasn't going anywhere so took the leap. I shut down the website and drove out to my dad's for a chat. I still didn't think it would turn into a viable business but figured I could make an equal amount of side money while selling something I loved and hanging with pops. That is the origin to the origin story that I don't talk about.
I wasn't in a position to quit my day job when I did. I was broke and had no idea how J. L. Lawson & Co. was going to pay my bills. I'm not saying I recommend this to everyone but I had finally figured out what I wanted to do with my life and just went for it. I'm ten years in and still wake up in a panic on some days. I'm guessing now that the insecurity of not having "security" never goes away and I'm cool with that.