it was a pensive weekend, to say the least. i wandered around my empty house, quietly, from bedroom to computer to studio, back and forth like some new sort of waltz, answering all of your many wonderful emails and working on a piece of jewelry that's been waiting for me to work on it for years and years, how wonderful! it was inspired, in turn, by the last coin purse piece - "secrets" - that i showed you here on ornamental, which sold in a flash (i think five seconds within listing it, in fact, something that amazes me, the one with the dial up connection, remember?). i've had the antique silver hardware parts for the wee little purse i'm now constructing from scratch with leather since i taught in montreal, back to back with nick bantock, perhaps five years ago; and it, as well, has been knocking about my studio drawers and trays just waiting for that special light of inspiration to shine down and let the nimble work begin. it has begun.
the piece i'm showing you above (you may click for detail), i created for my upcoming gatherings workshop, to be premiered at artfest 2008. it is one of quite a few shadowboxes gathered into a "portfolio", and i pulled out the photograph this morning because i think it speaks for so many of us who are in this artistic journey - the gatherers, the collectors, the ones who pocket treasures and trinkets and relics and talismans and secrets and fragments and remnants of things we want to remember from our lives and from our travels and from our winding paths through this crazy thing called life. i've tried as hard as i can to change my packrat ways, when i look around my familiar surroundings and take note of the stacks and piles and corners that are gathering dust more than anything else. but all of these things have enormous meaning to me, the sticks and the stones and the nests and the rocks, the old books and crystal doorknobs and rusted sections of metal filagree, the peeling painted gingerbread wood culled from houses my father tore down in his wrecking business, the molded tin ceiling sections, the antique ledgers daddy unearthed, the antique toy truck that my brother so proudly sent to me for my birthday one year. and you can rest assured that the truck is now one of my most prized possessions. i'm steeped with a love for all things sentimental. i grew up with it - my parents surrounded me with relics from ancient houses torn apart and built anew, and that is why, in part, i think i am who i've become today. although, in reflection as i say this, my mother does have a better grip on what i call the "kudzu effect", and keeps the encroachment syndrome at bay. she loves me, anyway. bless her heart, she has no choice.
i'll close today with a wonderful quote that was sent to me this morning via a newsletter that i receive every weekday from the wonderful foundation for a better life (i don't know if any of you remember the photo i took of tenzin gyatso, the dalai lama, out in the cornfields of wisconsin - on a billboard, of course - back in june, but that is what ultimately led me to this incredible site):
"And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same". - Nelson Mandela

Isnt it amazing -how the things we grow up with have such a profound influence on us at some point in our lives. So excited to be doing this class with you at artfest - what a treat it will surely be!
Posted by: JUDY WILKENFELD | August 27, 2007 at 11:07 AM
Oh wow--have been so sick the last couple days and have slept, slept, slept; ANOTHER summer cold. Have not been on a computer since Friday and am now catching up on your posts. Aren't you the most incredibly clever, from-the-heart, heart-stoppingly talented artist one could have the pleasure to come across? Collectors and gatherers many of us indeed are, but to do what you do, not so many of us can, or we do it in different ways that might not seem as superb for some reason as what you do--even tho we may well feel a bit pleased with ourselves for the bit of creativity we jhave birthed! I so love your unique ways!
Posted by: Vickie | August 27, 2007 at 12:30 PM
It's one thing to collect bits of this n' that from here & there, and quite another to do something fabulous with it. Bravo! Very coolio indeed!. Love the Mandela quote, isn't it interesting that we think we need permission?
Posted by: Chris | August 27, 2007 at 12:45 PM
hey hun...just wanted to say goodmornig...afternoon! wow...time is flying by this morning...i'd better scoot. this is beautiful, once again...dear friend. xo...mmmmmmmmmmm!
Posted by: annie lockhart | August 27, 2007 at 01:51 PM
oops! there's a "n" missing in morning above...nothing that a little caffeine won't fix! have a good one!
Posted by: annie lockhart | August 27, 2007 at 01:56 PM
Nina, I've been away to the beach for the weekend and am just catching up on your lovely posts & marvelling at your latest amazing creations!! How fantastically talented you are...I'm not at all surprised they were snapped up in a tick.....I just wish I'd been around!!
x
Posted by: Sue | August 27, 2007 at 02:54 PM
You've been keeping this website and quotes all to yourself? Thanks for sharing with me, with us. What a lovely place to visit. Glad to hear you had the creative bug bite this weekend...although methinks you are always so creative!
Posted by: Lesley | August 27, 2007 at 03:01 PM
Your Mother's "Kudzu effect" - is too funny. Oh your porfolio - how much I would love to just sit and look at it. One thing that I really savor with book art is the sense of anticipation I get when opening the cover of a book that someone has made -- hey I even feel that about my own bookart and for the most part I know exactly what is inside!!
Posted by: Penny | August 27, 2007 at 03:41 PM
I have been reading your posts over the weekend, however, until now have not had the time to comment.
I so understand the angst about being copied without permission especially when it is done badly.....it is a catch 22. On one hand it is good for us to be out there to have our art seen, admired and sold. On the other hand when our art is out there being seen, admired and sold, there is a greater chance that we will be imitated.
I asked a fellow artist one time how she deals with immitators. She said "I create something new and imagine them saying.... "Damn, I wish I had thought of that"..."
Your new creations are just like that...I can hear them say "Damn, I wish I had thought of that"
I truly admire your honesty.
Posted by: Mo'a | August 27, 2007 at 03:48 PM
We're all magpies and squirrels ! No we're only humans ... Once upon a long ago a strange ape picked up a stone ... or was it a shell.. anyhow that's how we started gathering ... ;)
Love the quote by the way !
Posted by: Steph | August 27, 2007 at 04:42 PM
Fabulous quote from one of the world's most inspiring people.
These things we gather and display tell people who we are, there is nothing worse than going into a super clean, sterile house that has only the latest
mass produced piece of art from the local housey store. These houses look like display houses and tell you nothing of the people who live there, they are not 'homes' and usually lack warmth and conversation.
Ro
xo
Posted by: ro bruhn | August 27, 2007 at 05:10 PM
After a morning of hearing my husband fuss about all the "'things'you have around here," it was balm to my soul to read your post. Unless you are a gatherer, too, you can not understand why getting rid of these treasures is like losing a part of the essence of you. A treasure is such a personal thing, isn't it?
Posted by: tonja | August 27, 2007 at 05:38 PM
i have always loved that quote. it is so true, isn't it? i always feel brighter and lighter in the company of others who feel the same about themselves.
xo
Posted by: kelly rae roberts | August 27, 2007 at 11:16 PM
that IS a wonderful quote.
i haven't been so much of a collector, but i have always been a gatherer...and as i get older and perhaps now that i have children, i am finding myself collecting more, holding on to the little things longer, hoping to keep time right by my side, where i can keep these days with me, always. it is becoming harder to part with these found treasures, but who will ever value them as i do... will they ever know the feelings in my heart when i picked up a wonderful piece of the beach, held it in my hand, keeping it warm, carrying it home with me, reminding me of that day. i am grateful that both kids love finding these gifts as much as i do. a lost wing here, an acorn cap there. these little pieces of sentiments, they all have their story, don't they!?! how lucky you are to be able to take these golden gatherings and turn them into so much more.
Posted by: Misty | August 27, 2007 at 11:43 PM
I think this sort of gathering must be genetic. My mother has it. I know when she moved she decided to dispose of bags of pinecones, rocks, shells. The dry stalks that used to hold daylily flowers, and look like antlers......
My niece, on the other hand, utterly lacks this trait. She actually gave away a snake skull she found, because "what was she going to do with it, anyway?"
I love but do not understand her.....
-- Vicki, who picked up a perfect half of a black walnut shell, yesterday, and saved it for ... ???
Posted by: Vicki in MIchigan | August 28, 2007 at 08:50 AM
oooh nina, you taught with nick bantock, next to you he is one of my favourite artists.
Posted by: Jacky McFarlane | August 29, 2007 at 03:43 AM
The gathering can be a problem (my house right now can attest to that) but when we did through the piles to find that special something, I always feel like a kid who just found the toy in the Cracker Jack box!
Posted by: Sue | August 29, 2007 at 09:54 AM
Wow! I'm in awe of your creativity! I'd love to see what your studio looks like! And Mandela's quote is certainly worth writing down. It's a good one.
Posted by: susanna | August 29, 2007 at 09:44 PM
i am a gatherer. nita
Posted by: Nita | August 29, 2007 at 10:11 PM