postcards from colorado 2

 i brought a handful of these postcards like you see above to set out on a table in the studio here in colorado; they had been buried under my studio table, along with a myriad of other lost things, for a good three or four years since i had them printed.  the necklace makes me smile - it was a gift to my australian friend jacky, and i saw it around her neck when i was there back in july.  made of one of my old ivory piano key pieces, it seems as new to me this morning as it was when first it was created, years ago.  reading the words on this card make me recall so many things - especially how one asheville gal who runs a lovely gallery there helped me to come up with the description of my work as "narrative jewelry", and "every piece tells a story" and "within each piece, a story unfolds".  i smile at these words - i see them a lot now, in etsy shops, on blogs, with other jewelry artists who've decided to make stories from trinkets as well.  the words seem so much a part of me, the stories with the making, with the tinkering.  i remember carrying my work to the asheville gallery, discussing each necklace or set of earrings with the appreciative employees before they were left there to be displayed under glass, to be purchased by complete strangers.  i remember mulling over whether or not to apply to join the juried southern highland craft guild, how nervous i was about sending off photographs of my work to be discussed by the judges, how excited i was when i got the news that i had been accepted.  i remember the one and only time i decided to have a booth in one of the guild's big shows, how painfully nervous and frightened i was at the time, how much work it was to purchase things like lighting and carpet and padding for the booth, then to lug those things to the car and drive to asheville for five days in a row.  i remember most of all how surprised i was to discover that i could not abide sitting there for five long days in an out of the way area, a fish in a bowl watching people pass by my booth, watching them stop to look, watching them either leaving the booth as fast as they could or deciding to linger, to purchase.  it was excruciating, and i've not been back.  years have passed, i've continued to sell my work myself but have foregone wholesale work and have never ever considered returning to street or craft shows.  no way.   this time around, i'm in a different situation - a little similar in that my door is open to the general public walking by, open to anyone who wants to wander in and have a look while i tap away at my work.  while still at home, i packed a couple of my beloved artist books, made a good seven and ten years ago, and sent them out last week along with the heaviest of tools and supplies.  into a box the tender books went, along with metal stamping letters, a bench block, strands of pearls and turquoise, stacks of ivory piano keys.  
yesterday morning i made it downstairs after breakfast, and began unpacking beloved and familiar artwork and supplies,  fingering them briefly before laying out on a covered table in the morning light.  how much like home they feel, displayed like that.  i carried the jug of sunflowers down for the day, carried them back upstairs at dusk so they'd be here to greet me this morning.  i'm not sure why i'm so fixated on these flowers - droopy, splashy, the color of optimism and sunshine - but i've been taking photo after photo of the silly things and am grateful for their presence, for their quiet radiance.  being here, open to the public certain hours of certain days, is not like being at a show where i am exposing my heart and soul to a buying public unfamiliar with my wares.  i have the pleasure of sitting at my work table, safely camouflaged behind hammer and mallet, behind spools of silver wire and neat little stacks of ribbon and snippets of old faded silks and brocades.  every now and again someone will walk through the open door, usually a woman with her straggling husband, and we chat about the things that i do, the artwork that i've made, the things that i am beginning to create.  everyone who passes through could not be any lovelier.  i like that this is a working studio, where i am able to come and go as i please, i can stay in to work, then walk out to explore, to be inspired.  what an incredible thing that i've been invited to be here, that i am invited to come back for a longer period sometime soon.  what an incredible thing that my work has brought me here, just as it has carried me all the way across the world on many a different occasion.
i've had the thought just now that when robin comes to pick me up, i'll carry a few of my "wild west" pieces along with us and photograph them out in the middle of all that grand nature.  i picture the jewelry resting on some of that red rock, on weathered wood, in the middle of tall, faded grass.  i love this idea.  and i will be sharing with you whatever i discover.  i'll also be listing, within my etsy shop, some of the pieces that i've been inspired to make.  sounds like a plan.  xo

Comments

[Patricia]

What a wonderful setting, Nina. I can almost smell the crisp Colorado air.

The necklace in the last photo is spectacular. The stones look soft like folded petals from your sunflower even though I know they are hard, hardened by their long lives in and of the earth.

[Elizabeth Woodford]

What a lovely lovely spot for you to tart to recover form the past few months of upheaval and to learn that you can be there with your work to have people peruse but NEVER without work to work on !!!! What a wonderful treat for all those who enter your space to be greeted by you and to spend a bit of time with such a lovely and talented and generous heart!!!

[sandra]

oh my...thank you for sharing what you're going through. I love your set up in the gallery. I love hearing your beautiful life stories and seeing the ornaments they inspire.

I'm so glad you settled in and you're enjoying yourself. The people who pass through are so lucky you're there. And for them to ask you back for a longer time is fantastic news.

[Tina in McLeansville]

so....the door is opened, hmmm? and now, do you know?
"what an incredible thing that i've been invited to be here, that i am invited to come back for a longer period sometime soon. what an incredible thing that my work has brought me here..."
yes....i think you do. i hear contentment, even above the flutterings of fear. well done, my friend. forge on. hugs...xo

[Mary G.]

Dear Nina -- I, too, love the photo of the amber necklace with the sunflower. It is pure luxury to have 2 of your blog posts 2 days in a row; thank you for sharing your adventure and your memories with us. I am glad having an "open studio" is not as excruciating for you as the craft fair was. And I am clapping my hands at the news that you have been invited back for a longer period. A door opens . . . Brava! Well and bravely done!

[susan]

Thank you for sharing this special adventure with us, Nina. You sound content and at peace with your life. And you so deserve it!

xo dusan

[Valerianna]

OH goodness, I couldn't agree more about shows... I did on ONCE, too, that was enough. Because it is rare for folks to buy paintings at a show. It just didn't work for me. I love how this arrangement sounds. And you've reminded me to get those postcards printed I've been thinking about. Thanks on many counts, and abundant fall blessings....

[Katherine Langford]

Finding those dancing feet, Nina. . . finding the firm footing of taking a chance and finding the sunshine! May you be blessed each day with a new discovery and may the people who enter be blessed also in their own way. I am truly proud of you because if you can do it, well, you are so many of our voices in your writings. You speak of so much heartwork that many of us are also trying to cobble out of the this and that's of life. Keep dancing in the sun!

[vickie long]

You are a survivor, Nina,and your work lives on. What hope and thrills and anticipation that gives us.
vickie in kc

[Vickie]

maize and honey

[Cindy In Carolina]

Lucky girl! Thank you for sharing your ride. Keep the pictures coming.

[Lee]

Soudns scary and fun at the same time. How lucky those stragglers are, getting to see you at work! Enjoy the attention.

[missy]

I too experienced the 'fishbowl' and could not bear it....enjoy your safe spot for creating and can't wait to see the photos
out in the 'wild'!!
missy from the bayou

[Cynthia]

What a beautiful necklace, and I love the way you photographed it! After doing a show this weekend, your words really resonate with me; I also find it difficult to expose myself to the passing comments of strangers. Hope that your guest artist visit in Breckenridge is as fabulous as it sounds!

[Hope Amen]

Dear Nina,
After all the nervous anticipation; you find your new surroundings an inspiration and the people you meet a delight. I am so happy for you. Enjoy your adventure and time with Robin. Cannot wait to see your new creations. Love, Hope

[missy in houston by way of galveston]

i wiah i could wander in and meet you in person and watch you work and see mountains outside the windows and breathe clean air.
remember:
pay attention.
be astonished.
tell about it.
thank you mary oliver and happy birthday mary oliver (sept 10)

[Loretta]

Oh my gracious! I am so happy for you! What an incredible lovely opportunity to be there, to be working in such a beautiful place, to have people wander in, and to have your son around.

I think it is a very sacred blessing for you and a promise of a renewal for the coming year.

[Lesley Riley]

Good plan. Everything happens for a reason, doesn't it?

[linda]

I love reading all about your adventures.......... and thank you for all the beautiful photos!

[Sharon]

~you are beautiful~

[Penny]

Sounds scary, sounds wonderful, I know you will make the most of it and enjoy, enjoy! So many things in your life at the moment, mine is slowing and I envy you.

[Bonnie Moench]

No one deserves this opportunity more than you do dear Nina. This sounds like the perfect setting for you.
Enjoy, and create beauty.

[robin dudley howes]

I have to tell you Nina that there are only a hand full of blogs (literally) I care to consistently read and you are one of them. I love your stories, your words, your pictures, your JEWELRY and you! One of these days I will be able to buy one of your beautiful creations......soon........very soon......robin