as is usually the case when i've been quiet, when i haven't posted for a bit, i've begun receiving a string of emails inquiring about my state of mind, of being. i'm fine. there are times when i'm hunkered down, when i don't feel like talking, when i might be so inspired and consequently so busy with work that i don't want to stop and spend a good three hours working on a post. still, i realize that it's an unselfish thing to check in, to share, to ponder and reflect. this time of year is perfect for that, for the reflecting and the pondering. cold weather has moved in; we had our first snow of the season yesterday, my first day back after spending a week in alabama with my mother, where temperatures until the last day hovered in the balmy 70's.
i drove back on monday through torrential, relentless rain, well into the dark; it was good to walk back into a dry house that had remained intact while i was gone. how sad it is that i now am forced to worry about this, every single time that i go away. thanksgiving for us was a time of deep and tender poignancy this year; both of my boys had to stay where they were, due to vacation and income limitations, and this was our first major holiday without daddy there at our side. my best friend julie made the trip with walter and me, which made things better for all of us, all the way around. now that i'm back home, i'm eager to get back into that sweet little studio, all full of soft light and inspiration. the snow looked lovely, falling outside the windows as i sat at the studio table for a full eight hours yesterday. i even ate my lunch in there, so attached am i to this new space. what is coming out of all of that upheaval and cleaning and purging is a remarkable new collection of work - a nod back to the wrap bracelets i began making a few years ago, with different twists this time around. i'm obsessed, and this is good. making things and strongly craving the time to spend making them encourages me more than i can say. little drawers store the pared down remaining trinkets and findings that i chose to keep out of everything that i gave away (would the recipient, however, of the vintage measuring tape please get back to me, i sheepishly ask? it wasn't meant to be sent on its way), and in those little compartments there are stories quietly waiting to be told. my stories become your stories, again and again and again. i feel as powerfully energized with what i'm making as i ever have - and after some twenty eight years of making jewelry and wearable art, this is an incredible thing. i had no idea how deeply, how strongly i'd be affected by the act of sorting and deep cleaning what had become a true disaster in there; i had no idea that what would begin to take form afterwards would have such strength and conviction. what an odd thing to say about an ornamental thing to wear, but honestly, it's true. you'll see. i'm not quite ready to show them individually, but as a collection there is a definite gravitational pull. i learned that when i saw how my mother had recently chosen to display all of the pieces i've made for her throughout the years, together as a whole. to look at these pieces together in one (dim) photograph, i can see the progress my work has made from year to year. and it is a bittersweet feeling to know that one day down the road these necklaces will all come back to me again.
so, for you who come to visit this place called ornamental, for all of you who've written to ask how life is treating me, here is a little sneak peek of what will be listed in my etsy shop a few days from now (patience, please, i want to actually finish the assorted designs that are swirling around in my head):