it has rained so much, so much this week. yesterday was one long series of thunderstorms that brewed and toiled and spilled over the mountains one after the other, rumbling and tumbling and cropping up over and over and over again. walter and i stayed inside, quiet as mice, while i spent a long day of dark and wind tucked away in the studio, listening to the tail end of Thirteen Moons, removing tiny words from a palm-sized antique book of fragile poems that has been resting on my studio shelf, delapidated, for going on 15 years. i read through pages of miniature text, cut some out with the sharpest of scissors, placed some here, placed some there. all the while, the wind blew and the rain fell. at dusk, a fog rolled in, and still the thunder rattled the windowpanes, through all of that muffling white.
by the time i crawled into bed with a book late last night, the rain was gone but the trees were audibly dripping, and a breeze brought the rich, heady smell of wet, black earth and new spring growth through the barely open window just above my head. this morning, when i walked out onto the porch and down the wooden walkway, i found the remnants of flower petals dotting the wood at my feet. snowfall, in april, then: the last of the snow from the snowball tree. i eat every day from japanese plates with flowers strewn across their surface, like this. they lace the plates on branches thin and brown, across palest blue-green mistiness: flowers in a shallow bowl, across a watery sky, poetry on porcelain. no wonder the fallen petals felt familiar, there at my feet. i wanted to thank those of you who took advantage of the jewelry sale, and helped me ready the shop for what comes next. i've spent a good solid couple of weeks mulling over how to fasten, how to adorn, how to manage and rearrange pieces that can be more than just one thing, can be taken off and added again. that's what sitting in a quiet little studio for hours and hours and hours will do to one who has nowhere else to be, as nature beyond my windows makes her own tender ornaments. what a lovely muse she continues to be, for me.
new pieces will be making their way into my little shop, within the next few days....xo