Ornamental

these eyes

i love these eyes.  the photo was taken straight off of the side of a cirque du soleil eighteen wheeler, out in the parking lot beside one of their big yellow and blue striped tents for the allegria show the boys and i went to see in atlanta a couple of years ago.  we lovvveee cirque du soleil; this surprised me, their zealous response to the first show we attended, down in disney world in 2002.  i mean - by this point, robin and roy were well into the years of jaded teenagedom, when it is not considered cool to be moved by things beautiful, evocative, ethereal, mysterious.  or so i thought.  ha.  moved they were, and we've gone back whenever, wherever we could.  they even tacked a myriad of cirque posters on their bedroom walls for years, right up there next to snowboarding photos and bob marley.  makes me proud, really, to know that they tasted magic and embraced it with all of their beautiful hearts.  and that they've carried it out into their own private worlds, where they light their own candles, string up their own little lights and throw little oriental rugs across their rooms for homey comfort. 

this morning i received my daily letter of encou- ragement from "The Universe", which you can read about here, that said, "Dear Nina, For just a moment there, I thought that time was real, that space was deep, and that manipulating circumstances and messing with the "hows" was the way to manifest life changes!!   Talk about insanity! . . . Chaos! . . . Doom!   Whatever you do, Nina, on this spookiest day of the year and beyond, don't let it happen to you. Think, think, and let go - The Universe...oh, hey Nina...nice costume!"   i read that last part, actually glanced down at what i was wearing - my flannel blue and white pajamas covered with clouds - and laughed.  costume?  what an appropriate costume for me right now, for a gal who is reaching for the stars, or for someone who is free falling, however you choose to see it.

i don't know if i'll have time to post tomorrow, the day i soar out of this world and into the world of italy.  if not, i'll return in two weeks, quite full of stories of adventure from another place and time.  for now, i wish everyone a wonderful all hallow eve, or - according to wikipedia, my favorite online source of information, Halloween is also called Pooky Night in some parts of Ireland, presumably named after the puca, a mischievous spirit.  well.  whatever you wish to call it, enjoy yourselves, and i'll see you in a couple of weeks. xo

let me fall...

in the middle of december, when the cold winds blow and the outer beaches of north carolina are quiet and deserted, i'll be travelling across the state to teach a seminar to some twenty-four public school teachers at atlantic beach, north carolina, through the north carolina center for advancement of teaching; i'll savor the chance to be at the edge of the sea when few others  choose to be, in spite of the fact that the weather will surely be bitterly cold, the wind will be insistent and i'll be wearing a heavy scarf and air-tight shoes in the sand.  this morning i sifted through computer photo files in search of the above photo, which is featured on the cover of the seminar's brochure - goodness, it takes me back to earlier teaching days.  i designed that book over six years ago - my "pocket book of dreams" class - and reading those words, from a breathtaking cirque du soleil scarf performance from quidam, was cause for a moment's lingering reflection (you may click on the artwork below for a closer look):

Let me fall                                                                                    
Let me climb
There's a moment when fear
And dreams must collide

Someone I am
Is waiting for courage
The one I want
The one I will become
Will catch me

So let me fall
If I must fall
I won't heed your warnings
I won't hear them

Let me fall
If I fall
Though the phoenix may
Or may not rise

I will dance so freely
Holding on to no one                                                                      You can hold me only
If you too will fall
Away from all these
Useless fears and chains

Someone I am
Is waiting for my courage
The one I want
The one I will become
Will catch me

So let me fall
If I must fall
I won't heed your warning
I won't hear

Let me fall
If I fall
There's no reason
To miss this one chance
This perfect moment
just let me fall

i love those words.  they mean more to me now, especially now, than they did the five years ago when i created those two pieces of "tree" art.  see the changes in my style?  i see the similarities, yes, and the flow from there to here... the connection to nature, the fervent passion with the woods, the trees, the birds and what shelters them, the wind that carries them on their wings - and the way that i feel when i am standing in the breeze or under the branches of those trees, looking up.  all of that is the same, but i've tried to put a bit less "busy-ness" into my work, while saying more....so that the eye and the mind don't get bogged down, but the heart understands all the same.  one word, or two, three or four - one image, or two, rather than fifteen or twenty.  one gemstone bead, one pearl.  one egg.  one twig.  one hand to hold, one nest to save.

i'm not exactly sure where i am going with all of this today.  it is a sunny sunday afternoon, and i feel that i really should be out of doors soaking in the last of the falling, falling, falling colors, the twirling oranges and reds and yellows that are fast fading to the ochres and browns that will then pale into greys and whites of winter.  i'll be looking for the bones of the land when that grey time envelopes itself around us, then, and looking up into the bare branches of the trees; and maybe i'll invite you to freefall with me, heading on into this part of life, from that part that was then, into this part that is now.  it doesn't look so bad from here - no, not at all, not at all.

snippets from this week

last saturday was the wonderful trunk show at niche, outside of hendersonville, north carolina, featuring cynthia ashby and her gorgeous clothes (and my jewelry, and moi).  colleen is the lovely, lovely owner, with beloved mary as her assistant; i adore those two, as well as the other flock of gals who help them out.  they went to an unbelievable amount of trouble to make the day special for all of us, setting fall decorations all about, and snacks out in a little building that was once a tiny country store; there was even an entire lunch spread with hot soup, tossed salad, freshly baked muffins, cake, you name it.  i was like a child in a candy shop, surrounded by all of the incredible clothing (why hadn’t it occurred to me that i WOULD be?!  i suppose i’d been to consumed by all of the other things that had taken up the week, who knows…); but needless to say, i spent a large part of the day trying on piece after piece of cynthia’s newest designs, and came home with a huge bagful of them to pack for italy. actually, as soon as i walked into the shop, i literally tossed aside my bag full of jewels and, mouth hanging open, headed straight for a rack of coats that caught my eye.  ironically, it was cynthia who sweetly stood behind the antique jewelry case and set out the pieces for me!  she is beautiful – very, very sweet.  thank goodness i had the foresight early on to snap a few photographs, because as the day wore on, i was so overcome by seeing so many friends who had stopped by, and by what turned out to be such an amazing showering of love from everyone, that i forgot to take any more photos.  cynthia’s assistants, susan and felice, were lovely gals, and i’m hoping we’ll have more oppor- tunities, here or in chicago, to spend play time together.

see these beeeautiful roses?  FIFTY of them?  my dear, dear friends kathy and bill malkasian, from valley ridge art studio in wisconsin, had them delivered to niche in the middle of the afternoon.  i was floored; i never, ever get flowers, and these are HUGE.  they are still beautiful, a week later!  silly me – the next morning i stood here at the house and tried to count – an impossible task – and kept thinking that there were 48, but looked like there were maybe a couple of extra red ones, perhaps thrown in for good measure.  i didn’t understand, or get it.  then, standing later in the shower, the veritable light bulb went off, and i burst out laughing…i can be such a slower learner sometimes!  Also, colleen at niche brought in a lovely orange and chocolate torte (my FAVORITE chocolate combo) with a tall candle, and champagne, and had all the girls sing happy birthday to me;  mary had everyone sign a sweet little address book, and place their email and phone number in there.  my friend paula heyes, from Asheville, had also brought a lovely beret she’d hand-knitted for me:  the most lovely celery (not lettuce) shade, in baby alpaca yarn, so very, very soft to touch and wear.  a gift of love, from a dear sweet friend, it will be much appreciated on chilly days and evenings in italy, as well as right at home...

here i am standing with pal meg fowler and cynthia; we all ended up in the very same tops, but with different colors.  all, of course, cynthia's designs (i'm obviously addicted).   the weather was beautiful for an absolutely perfect day;  everyone drifted back and forth from the main store, there with the front porch, to "snuffy's", where the table was spread with all of the delectable goodies for coffee and lunch,  and in between, standing and sitting in the sun while the chickens ran about and a cat rubbed up against our legs, and the blue, blue skies spread so deeply behind orange leaves that it almost hurt to stand and look at everything surrounding me.  i drove home in the evening with a full head and teary eyes, knowing that i am truly loved and that the world is full of dear and tender people.  thank you, everyone at niche, and cynthia, susan, and felice!!!

o, but today the rain, it has returned, and i for one am finding myself breathing long, labored sighs of exhausted relief, looking out sodden windows from these toasty-warm rooms to watery visions of still-colored leaves blowing this way and that, falling, sticking, twirling some more, and then staying put, there on the ground with their other wet neighbors for a bit.  Rainy weather forces me to stay inside, to not feel guilty about hunkering down and dealing with paper work, blog writing, photographs, loose ends.  chai latte, anyone?

aspen and i  haven’t been home for three nights now , but have been sleeping out at my parents’ cabin some 50 minutes from here, down twisty, winding roads that leave my poor pup wiped out simply from leaning against the curves in the car.  it is a beautiful drive, but after driving an hour out  each afternoon, then an hour back home in the late morning, i’m beginning to pine for home long before the two week trip to italy has even begun.  still, each moment with my parents is cherished, and the early darkness that falls and drapes itself around the cabin is a grand excuse to pull out the matches and light the candles here and there.  we pour glasses of wine, sit and talk at length about nothing and everything.   the quiet hours with no television or radio afford my folks long stretches of leisure; daddy spends hours reading and polishing furniture, shoes (mine!  lucky me!), brass bells, doorknobs; mama bakes, reads, and knits.  again, lucky me, as i’m the fortunate recipient of several beautiful scarves, a few of which will be accom- panying me to cortona.  and bless their beautiful hearts:  they’ve agreed to keep dear aspen for me for the two weeks i’m away, down in alabama!

a hiccup, a blink, a tumble and skip

....and even a dance or two somewhere inbetween, and suddenly i went from august to the end of october, without quite seeming to grasp or truly realize how many days and weeks had clicked by.  but just look!  just. look. 

i live in leaf-looker heaven, just miles from the blue ridge parkway, a ten minute drive from the great smoky mountain national park, a three or four minute walk (straight uphill, mind you) to a lovely little singing waterfall, and can step outside onto my front deck at any given moment and view the clouds shifting across the western mountain horizon.  it is lovely, it is quiet, and you'd think i live a quiet, bucolic life out here.  i do, i really do.  too quiet, most of the time.  but this year?  whew, what a year.  a time of change, both sad and good, bittersweet, melancholy, a time of growth for those around me, for myself as well, a time of letting go, of sending fledgling birds out on their flight into their proverbial world.  i remember days this summer when i'd sit down at this computer and think i should post, and would post - about the sheltering cool green of the trees, the wrens and their nests, that vocal phoebe and her incessant PHOEbe, PHOEbe, the shift in the breeze, the slant of the sun.   life clicked by in hours and quiet moments, yes it did, but it didn't leave me reeling from week to week, wondering how i was going to catch my breath.  now, you ask?  well.  i inhale deeply as i write this (and i can hear you doing it as well; isn't power of suggestion a wonderful thing?).

somehow i blew right through art and soul without managing to find the time, once i came home, to post about the experience.  it was WONDERFUL.  wonderful, wonderful.  incredible to be with old friends, lovely to make new ones.  the unending laughter, the scattering of tears (good ones), the depth of emotion when we were able to express ourselves with our art - to see students break down in tears over relief of a breakthrough - over happiness in creativity - it was all an amazing experience that just cannot be put into words, no matter how hard i try.  i was overwhelmed once i returned home, exhausted beyond belief, and thought i'd be able to sit down and post about it once i was rested and had the time to describe the classes, the fun, the playtime, the cameraderie.  but, no.  life marched on by.  all i can hope to do is place some photos in an art and soul album, with descriptions, when there is time.

i love this photo of beloved misty and me, a candid shot taken by dear friend lesley; i think it is a good representation of the time there, when friendships solid and true were honored and blessed, when times of spontanaeity and chance were at their best.  that is what these art retreats best celebrate; because i attend these events as a teacher, i spend the weeks beforehand preparing for class, for kits, and often the pre-trip anxiety overrides the excitement and anticipation of seeing dear friends.  not this time.  i was able to treasure the little bits of free time, what small moments those were, and relish the opportunity to just sit and be quiet with a treasured companion.  life is short.  spend it wisely.  tell the ones you love how much you love them, and laugh - a lot.

i cherish this photo, as well, of  wonderful celine navarro, french "sister" of mine;  just look at that impish grin!!!  celine was in my blackbird tea cozy class, along with a whole flock of wonderful gals, including the infinitely incredible and beloved katie kendrick, here on the left, who sat in the back of the class next to the also wonderful (hell, everyone was wonderful!!) jennifer frank (shoot, no photo - except the back of her head and katie's, when driving through portland on saturday in a mondo car with velveteen seating - and doris' arm!   i'll post that one in the album, when there's time - next year?!).

lord.  i've not even begun to skim the surface, when describing art and soul.  there are class highlights, photos of projects, the ever-loving john hammond (how are you, dear one?), wine served by indir, unending memories.  and yet. 

i have yet to tell you about my trunk sale with cynthia ashby at niche on saturday - fabulous!  there are photos from that, and i'll share when there's time.  italy beckons.  soon, soon (a week from tomorrow, i leave!).  my parents arrive this afternoon at their cabin, a 50 minute drive from here, and they'll be staying for the rest of the week. 

i haven't thanked you all for the unending emails, birthday cards, packages, incredibly thoughtful gifts that continued to arrive for days and days after my birthday this past week.  cd mixes you'd personally made for me, rose petals, tins of tea, candles, an arrangement of fifty long stemmed roses, artwork, soaps, chocolates, antique kimono braids (oh, katie!), smooth beach stones, a vintage tiara, even a wonderful iron ore formation shaped just like a bird's nest, found on a long island beach and sent to me after years of being loved and cradled in a buddha's lap. i have placed some of the other lovelies, beads and such, there on my buddha's lap, gifts from there and there, to here.  it all seems so good, so reassuring, to be told by so many that i am loved.  thank you, and thank you, and thank you one hundred times over again.  you are each and every one of you a blessed beautiful being.  xo

thinking of you

thinking of you, on this momentous day, my 50th birthday, and feeling enormously glad to be alive and to know all the depth and breadth life has to offer me. 

thank you all for being as supportive and kind, funny and endearing as you've proven to be these past ten months that i've been posting in this spot.  it's a wonderful ride, and i'm deliriously happy to be on this side of here, between then and there, waiting for the next train to come along and snatch me up for the ride.  last night my mother told me she'd be calling me this morning, and when i told her to persist, should the computer have the phone tied up, she said, "oh, i'll find you - after all, i found you fifty years ago!"; i swallowed the lump in my throat, laughed and said i thought that perhaps i was the one who had found her after all.

Where did you come from baby dear?
Out of the everywhere, into the here.
Where did you get your eyes so blue?
Out of the sky when I came through.

jewels, anyone?

as always, it's getting "down to the wire", so to speak - me, frantically, hysterically wiring jewels (these are unfinished earrings - click on photo for close up)together late into the wee hours and then oversleeping in the mornings, shamefully...i leave too early this coming tuesday for portland (walk out of the house at 5:30 am for my 7:45am flight from asheville), and what has me really upset is having to drive aspen tomorrow to waynesville, 4o minutes from here, to leave him at a kennel for eight days.  little does he know, dear thing!  i'm in agony over this; aspen hasn't been boarded in more than eight years, because he normally stays at my friend dora's - who, unfortunately, will be out of town for this trip, and the two week stint in italy.  i cannot tell you how good it makes me feel to know that roy is willing to drive him down to alabama and leave him with my parents for that time, and that my mother will give him very loving attention, ever the doting grandmother, for two grand weeks...

to the left is a necklace i finished a couple of days ago (click on photo for close up) just after my friend tommy brought me, early in the morning, some gorgeous autumn leaves and lingering wildflowers from the walk he'd made down from his cabin to my house.  the reds in the leaves seemed quite fitting an accompaniment to this piece, somehow - although the photo here annoys me, the way the flash, necessary (i detest using the flash) in this case created a faux glossy enamel-y look to the coral that simply is not there.  i love this necklace; i do.  it seems rather zen-like in its simplicity:  the image is a photograph of a large, raucous crow in a tree that i snapped at fort worden, port townsend, washington this past april, and over the photo i layered rice paper to give it an evocative feel, knowing the resin would soak through and reveal most of the crow's image as shown.  the egg?  well, a red egg.  i called this a magpie because it seemed to have gathered a shiny bit of silver there under the house shape.  who knows the way my mind works at the time a piece is being put together?  lord knows i don't.  below are tommy's leaves - assorted hickory, maple, locust, walnut,oak, poplar.  i'll let you decide which is which.

lastly, one more image (click for detail) of a serving of jewels - i couldn't resist.  this is, quite literally, how they look at present, there in a humble patty pan in my studio, all willy nilly jumbled up, waiting to be sorted out, priced, and slipped into tidy little bags for their journey on the plane out west.  little pretties.  i laugh as i think about what i go through each and every time i pass through the security line at the airport and see the look on the fellow scanning my carry-on bag with the x-ray machine.  huh?!  now i just tell them ahead of time that they'll be wanting to take my bag aside and check the zip-locked contents.  no weapons there, but oh, the fun those big old gloved hands have going through that bag....

see you upon my return.  and happy october, everyone.  i turn 50 this month! xx