Ornamental

another long time

One  knows that a day can be beautifully redeemed upon reception late in the afternoon of a heavy heart rock of petrified wood, found and sent priority post by a beloved son all the way from Colorado.  The first thing I did after cutting through the two inch thick layer of bubble wrap was to lift the heart to my nose and deeply inhale; it smelled of earth, and hearth, and also of all things Colorado:  my son, deep love, fresh air, ancient stone, red earth, evergreens, bristlecone, deep blue sky.  rolling plains.  kind gestures.  kindred dreams.

Taped to the outside of the wrapping, a tiny heart rock was secured for safekeeping while it made its way across those many states.  Robin and his sweetheart, Mary, had adventured one recent weekend from their home on a mountain above Durango over to Moab, i believe, in Utah.  The desert there, Robin said, was scattered with petrified wood stone as large as boulders, as small as something to hold in the palm of one's hand.  

These gifts from my sons have made their way to me ever since they were both quite small, and searching for rocks on the shape of a heart on the grounds where they played in pre school.  I have saved them all, and place the tiniest ones inside a glass cupboard display, lest they be shuffled or knocked inadvertently off a tabletop, vacuumed and lost for eternity. 

You can see how I continue to hold on to these treasures, to be inspired by that simplest of cookie cutter shapes which reminds us all of the emotions we hold within our chests, of the memories that we hold sacred and want never to forget.  I have scoured lake edges for slabs of mica in a loosely shaped heart, fathered shell and tumbled glass remnants that, when turned this angle or that, suddenly reveal themselves to have the shape that had til then not reminded me of something meaningful.  I have cut the shape from glass and stone, have sawed it from flat sheets of sterling silver; i have woven fine silver wire into a netted shape to protect and suspend those shapes so that they hang warmly at the naked throat or over the chest, at the heart.

those shapes inspire, and then lead me to other bits of treasure that have been squirreled away in tiny drawers in quiet wait for the right time to present themselves with serendipity.  Old becomes new again, and the journey travels on.

wing becomes sacred, weathered and frayed like the best of wise things.  stone is tumbled, carved and saved; sticks are whittled by beaver and washed ashore by rushing flood waters, plucked from the sand or the silt and stood in a tall studio jar, ready five years after to take on new life as ornament, as talisman, as keeper of a dream.    

we are reminded of life's fragility, and of its strengths, when we suffer the inevitabilities of loss, and our own strength of resolve reshapes itself into an expression of deepest unabiding love.

(agate stone cut from a slab by Robin, then shaped by him into a cabochon that he sent as a gift to my ailing, grieving mother upon the passing of our dear Callie).

and somehow, i discover the shape of that valor coming through as the shape, once again, of purest unconditional love:  a flame in a stone that is shaped like a heart, a dog's ears that when relaxed in final days and memorialized in silver, take on that very same form.

This has been the most difficult 18 months of my sixty two year old life, thus far.  i've temporarily shifted and lived for the past 12 months away from Heartrock Hill cabin life in the isolated mountain woods of western NC down here to my mother's home in Alabama to offer her daily comforting visits, company and conversation that involves listening - quietly listening! , multiple daily phone chats, upkeep of grounds and financial affairs, and deepened love and care of her corgi Miss Callie, with whom i made frequent visits to see my mother in her room at a nursing home.  i've made extremely difficult solo decisions, suffered two devastating internal home floods upstairs and down, nearly lost Walter (who has beautifully survived), had to carry my mother with Callie to the vet for that final and very sorrowful visit.  I live here in my hometown and spend as much time with my precious dwindling mother as i possibly can.  my own health took a deep unexpected dive these past four months, when i spent Christmas sick and all alone with the pups for a solid two weeks, for better enough to take a trip to ohio to be with close friends for a long weekend of closeness and joy.
i have carried my mother to have eight hours in a reclining dermatology surgeon's operating chair while they whittled away at her cancerous face; i have held her hand this past tough week as we go through the painful steps this all over again, just after being told myself by ENT doctors that i will most likely require surgery to clear a sinus cavity that has become completely blocked, ever since those wildfires that surrounded the ash-filled areas just over the mountain ridges beyond my cabin back door 2.5 years ago.  All of this feels like wave after crushing wave hitting us both from behind, before we ever have a chance catch our breath, gasp for air, to stumble back to an upright position.  through all of this, though, i feel the powerful love of my boys, my mother, my walter and my close friends, who all love me without condemnation, judgment, condition.  this is the meaning of family, then, and this is expression of its purest distilled form, a medicinal balm that i remember with gratitude at long day's end.

my final words today to you are simply this:  love one another.  love with fierceness and authenticity, and by all means with expression.  do not wait to be asked for help; simply help.  be there.  be real.  and love, with passion and without ending.  remember outside of yourself  the ones who love you, who are suffering, who are sad, confused, weighed down by all the things that life and age will bring.  tell your mentors you are grateful.  reach out and touch.  listen.  see through the the ugly swaddling and the bandages that protect the injuries, the cuts and bruises underneath.  what is contained within a withering shell is what pines to be gently and genuinely loved, and be seen.  live with an aim to live for others, outside of yourselves - something for which i myself am constantly in need of checking my own flawed ways for authentic upkeep and repair. Treat with kindness.  curb anger, and ugliness.  love your creature children with crazy, reckless abandon.  love them even as you fear the day that comes when their short lives will end.  love them for loving you, as hard as they do.  and most of all, really, be grateful for grace from outside of yourself, and love thyself, love this life, live each day as if it will be a separate package all on its own, a work of art with feats and flaws and tied with tattered thread from one gift of a day to the next.

  

(it has been so long since i last posted, that i've lost my editing skills for photographs and column content.  i've sat here on my iphone for three hours and worked on these images and words, only to see that some photos have inexplicably decided to post sideways.  time is short these days, though days are long, and other things need my attention.  Forgive the mess here, the upside down, the unedited words, the unintended sideways glances.  be well, and thank you for being here if you stumble upon me here again one day.  xox

 

 

it's been a long time

it HAS been too long.  i won't go back and check old postings, because know i will get sucked in too deeply,  i'll get sad and want to start reading things that - like an old diary, really - are best left on the top shelf of an unused closet, where you aren't apt to fall in and not come back out again.

i think i can pinpoint the waning and then demise of my post writings to the slow, slow decline of using my laptop for anything other than printing out postage labels for my jewelry sales.  seriously.  the use of a smart phone has become so much a part of my daily busy-ness that i'm not sure i even know how to use a typed blog format anymore.  but i'm giving this a shot, which will surprise a whole lot of readers who were once very loyal and - well, who were always here.  i can't promise that this will once again become a regular practice.
time seems to grow more and more scarce, in spite of the fact that i am living what would seem a simplistic lifestyle way out in the middle of the woods, with only my pup Walter to keep me occupied.  but this isn't really true.  anyone who is self employed will understand how much work that entails, and how much time.  anyone who has a greatly aged or aging parent, who wants to help in their life's pleasures and in whatever little tasks that can be accomplished - well, you will understand how much time this takes up as well, particularly if you don't live in the same area as your mother or father, if you have to drive six hours at a stretch one way.  the coming and the going takes more than just the time to drive; it involves hours of packing clothing, as well as work supplies for a portable "studio", food and bed and stuffies for Walter, on and on and on.  books.  laptop.  paperwork.  packing supplies.  artwork supplies.  to add the hours spent writing a blogpost on top of everything else begins to feel like a chore, a responsibility, and that is when i push it aside and move on to the task right at hand.  now, years later, i'm writing yet another post that may or may not ever get published.  we shall see.  Just in trying to load photographs into the typepad format, i am reminded of how excrutiating it was to sit and wait while photos loaded.  forever.

 

I’ve just made it through to the other side of what turned out to be a very unexpected snow storm, particularly for mid december, when all we usually get is a drizzly rain.  i grabbed a wooden ruler and stuck it through some snow on the flat part of the back deck saturday mid day, after two nights and an entire day and another morning of nonstop snow, and came up with a measurement of 9".  i thought i must be measuring incorrectly, but online statistics proved me right.  it was beautiful.  all that white draped through the woods and over the cabin makes for a splendid way to photograph the most ordinary of things we see from day to day:  tree trunks and bare limbs looked frosted, and things were very, very, verrrrry quiet.  there was no one else anywhere around me; my neighbor is in the process of moving, and her basement tenant was away for the weekend.  walter and i wandered through woods that seemed new to us; i threw sticks, and he dove for them with crazy, wild abandon, back legs springing back and ears flopping straight out to the sides.  

 

i stood still in the middle of those woods and strained my ears to see if i could identify any sound within my reach, yet all in the whole world of Heartrock Hill that i could hear was perhaps a tiny rustle of a dried leaf left hanging on a spindly dry twig.  that was it.  no birds, no distant dogs barking, and of course, no cars.  it was if i had stepped all the way back in time to when no one had built houses on these mountains, and there was only the little stream meandering through the woods at the bottom of my hill.

what do you do when you are forced to come to a slow stop and must, for the most part, stay tucked away inside?  i busied myself with the mandatory chores - firewood hauling from outside into the cabin's wood stove, shoveling snow from doorways so that walter wouldn't have to plow through all that white stuff to get to the yard, gathering dry twigs sheltered from snow on the front porch.
 chili making, fire lighting, water drawing in case the power went.  after that?  a fire was kindled, dinner was eaten, and i settled onto the sofa by the fire to stitch with needle and embroidery thread.  times like that are blissfully peaceful, cozy, warm, and i have to force myself to rise and head back to the bedroom before it gets to be the middle of the night.  i worked on jewelry that required a needle and thread; i savored the work that was quiet, and still.  walter snoozed.  and the days passed, just like that.

Now, christmas is almost upon us.  i busy myself in the studio during the day, trying to rustle up some trinkets that you folks might like to purchase for loved ones, or - a little wink here - something for yourself.  i think ahead to a week or so from now when, once again, i head back down to alabama to be with my sweet mama, and after a few days, with one of my sons and his wife.  i have a son in the middle of a gigantic move to Los Angeles, of all places, and watch the news of voracious wildfires with worry anew.  i have friends there, and now i will have a treasured son, his gal, and their pups to worry about. i have one son on the west coast, and one on the east coast, in baltimore.  and i am right here in the middle of nowhere, not really in a halfway place to anything.  i am here, it is my quiet little frenzied life, i tinker and torch, i twist and burn, i continue to hammer my heart into pieces of silver.  that much of my story has not changed.   i am here, even though i have not been.  i am here.  you are maybe there.  and life goes on. xo
i leave you for now with hearty salutations for the winter holidays, as well as  the warmest of cozy wishes for all good things.  never forget to tell your loved ones how much you love them, every single time you are walking out the door or hanging up the phone.  we all could use a little more love theses days.  remember that.  xo

remember to dream

  i've spent all of today trying to remedy an online connection with my little iphone, having been away from home for five weeks and only walking back through my own front door last evening.  i realize now how dependent i 've become on that tiny little screen, on its convenience, its rapid connection to the world beyond my front porch.  it's been far too easy and too subtle a change for me to notice how drastically the shift has affected me, my writing, my jewelry, my life.  no longer do i set aside a morning and take an hour or two or three to compose a blog post, edit and share photos, document my days with little notes scrawled on scraps of paper here and there.  take that a step farther, and consider the quiet life i now live out in the woods, next to no one, in a little log cabin with only the heartbeat of walter to remind me that i am not entirely alone in my status as a living creature walking through the nights and days.  i spent five weeks away with my mother, focused mostly on her and on my time soaking up her presence and company; we rose and ate breakfast together, sat and worked quietly in the afternoon, drank cocktails in the evening and ate the meals that we prepared as a team.  old movies and british crime series were our selected choices for viewing; we laughed, we told each other stories, we wept when there was a sudden death of a friend's child, we put our heads together to come up with a way to honor our friend and the memory of her son with the purchase of a small red bud tree.  i was not alone in my thoughts for much of that time, not at all.  i didn't post many photographs on instagram, i didn't visit friends, i only stuck close to her at home and walked the pups, gathered her mail, made grocery and wine runs, hung her easter wreath, wiped down the front door with orange oil, planted things in pots out on the patio.  i scrubbed the bird bath, pulled weeds, spread pine straw, and walked the dogs some more.  now, back here at home, i'm walking in circles - feeling more than a little bit lost and ever thankful for that precious time - and have spent most of this afternoon sprawled out on my bed with windows briefly open to the broadening bird song, the gusty breeze.  my open suitcase, still stuffed with the clothes that it held all that time, yawns at me from the bedroom floor.  walter follows me from room to room, and as i write this, he is stretched out on the bed right next to me, one paw nearly touching my own thigh.   during this quiet afternoon with my laptop before me here on the bed, i've wandered back to spring photos that were taken in april of 2012.  my father had been gone for nearly a year, and i was still struggling to find my footing again after such a tremendous loss.  there is a writer - an incredible author - who lives right here in my own community, and when he spoke to a group downtown, i was thrilled to be able to go.  i almost wrote the word "stupidly" when i began a sentence describing the book above, and my decision to make it for this man.  there was a good bit of time involved in putting the piece together, and when i presented it to him after his reading, blushing and stammering like an awkward school girl, he looked at me as if he weren't quite sure what to think of my gift.  i saw him again the following year, and he didn't even remember.  i did this for a reknowned poet as well, back in 2008 or 2009.  and for others as well, long gone from my life.  i wish i had those art books for myself, now.  i no longer take the time to make these things, and kept only the few that i made to honor milestones in my life, my boys' lives; some of those i even gave to family members as gifts.  where has this earlier, younger artist version of myself disappeared?   does anyone ever look back on their older work and wonder where the common thread remains, if it is even still woven through?  does anyone stumble upon old photographs of past loves and think, do they truly remember me?  does the air still smell as fragrant there as it once did?  do the flowers still bloom, and shimmer, then fade and quietly flutter and fall to cover the spring grounds below?  do those trees still grow there, where the magic hour sun shone through?     this afternoon has faded now into early evening.  the suitcase still gapes before me, the last western sunlight has shifted and passed across the folded clothes and now fades on the wooden door.  the house is quiet; walter dreams.  i avoid the mirror that tells me how many bits and pieces of myself i've worn down and lost here and there along the way.   tomorrow i head back down the stairs to straighten the studio, clear out the cobwebs, and head into that new direction where my heart and my older fingers are telling me to go.  gemstones have been gathered that speak of landscapes, and of the ocean, and the forests, and the smoky rippling mountains that surround me.  
  to work honorably with them, i need the proper tools, and an open heart, to forge cautiously ahead.  i know i can do it; i'm eager to make a new start again.  spring is almost here, and whispers softly to me of all of these things.  i stand out on the front porch, gulping in that smell of new and growth and change, and i whisper along with all of it, and repeat those budding words with some of my own in a rhythmic mantra sing-song lullaby:  be kind, love all, do not forget your dreams.  do not forget to dream.  xx

new Wilmington May Workshop!

i'm really pleased and excited to announce that i will once again be teaching a jewelry workshop in the lovely NC coastal town of Wilmington, May 2-3.  the class will be held in the sweet studio of my artist friend, Kim Beller - who out of the blue texted me yesterday morning and asked when i would like to come back for another weekend of teaching techniques, camraderie, and creativity.  i love Wilmington, love the ten minute drive to the beach, love being able to visit with my son Roy, love being able to bring walter along for the fun.  the November 2013 group of gals was especially lovely, and Kim provided an encouraging and supportive atmosphere where we could all share and learn together.  

   this time around, i'll be sharing a wonderful net-wrapping technique that is easy on the hands and provides a wonderful look and tactile touch to focal treasures that are transformed into beautiful keepsake pieces of jewelry.  since we have two full days, we will be able to spend ample time learning and honing the netting technique before launching into the necklaces (or bracelets) that each of us will design with our own unique looks. (please see note at bottom).  this is wonderful for bits and pieces gathered on the seashore - small driftwood sticks, shells, worn beach glass, little bottles of sand.     we will spend a good amount of time discussing how to pull assorted treasures from the backs of drawers or shelves and create an "inspiration board" or montage tray that will help us find ways to bring a certain look or group of colors together into a unified jewelry design.    even the much larger bits from nature - pine cones, chunky driftwood bits, porcelain hands, hanks of beads - can all serve as catalysts for designs that might be forming in the subconscious corners of our minds.

  i'm greatly looking forward to being with a group of kindred spirits on the coast of my beloved north carolina in the lovely spring month of may.  after a long and difficult winter, this will be a glorious way to celebrate growth, newness, rebirth that always come with spring.  the details have yet to be ironed out, but please let me know that you are interested.  three people have already claimed spots, three more are waiting for workshop details and are certain they will attend.  this leaves six more spots....
i'll be travelling all day tomorrow.  if you wish to email kim for further details, her email address is kim@bigstronggirldesigns.com and mine is ninabagleync@gmail.com - the cost will be $320.00 for two days, which will include the use of kim's work space and assorted snacks/drinks.  there are ample hotels in the area, and kim would be happy to advise on those choices for what is near her home.  i'll be back here with a clearer description of the workshop, and a materials list, later this week.  til then

(* i wanted to add this morning before i hit the road that this workshop is open to all levels of experience, beginners on up.... several of you had written to express concern that you might not be at an appropriate level to take the class, but i can assure you that you are!  the workshop size is small - 12 maximum - and i will spend a lot of one on one time working with each of you.  you needn't spend any more or less time than you wish on any one technique.  the whole concept of this workshop is to create a meaningful piece of jewelry that tells your own story, whether it be with simple strung seashells, hammered word pieces, embroidered bits of cloth components.  the wire netting technique is something that i've been utilitizing in my own jewelry for the past months, and have had quite a few folks ask if i would ever teach them how to weave it. 

the price for the two day workshop is $320.  i'm offering an early bird special through April 5, Easter Sunday, of $295.00 for those of you who sign up and pay between now and the 5th.  after that, the price will be $320.  all payments must be made in full.  in the event of an unforeseen emergency with kim or myself, all payments will be fully refunded.  cancellations by students after a certain date - i'll determine that tomorrow - will be unrefundable, outside of a serious emergency, simply for the benefit of students on a waiting list who would need to make their own plans to come.  i'll be creating a paypal button, with a direct link to paypal, for you to use.  thanks so much!  

 

and into spring...

  (how did it suddenly begin to look the slightest bit like spring?!)

i've been gone, again, forever.  i've not written a post here since the middle of december, and here it is getting ready to burst into spring, at least in the south-central part of alabama.  i'm sure that the cabin back at home is sitting squarely in the middle of trees that are still barren of leaves, of any sign of life.  i now know that winter is a season for the cabin that is not my favorite, outside.  the evenings are lovely, inside, once a fire has been built in the woodstove and i am cozily tucked in next to the flames, with Walter nearby.  i have to work for that coziness - i go out to gather fallen twigs and small branches for kindling, i purchase and stack firewood, i carry it into the house, i build the fire, i clean the hearth, i do it all over again.  but i love the smell of burning wood, i love the flicker of flames, i love the comfort and presence that a wood fire brings.  but spring?  it needs to settle on in at Heartrock Hill.  it really does.

  i'm pleased to announce the publication of a lovely feature article all about me, about my jewelry, in this current issue of Belle Armoire.  the photographs, the layouts, the page spreads, and especially the writing, all come together to create a lovely highlight on how and why i do what i do.  Be sure to take a look.  Thank you once again, Stampington, for so generously featuring my work!

i wanted to share a few photos here with you... many of them have been shown on Instagram, where i try to stop by daily with a haiku and an accompanying image.  it is easier these days, sadly, for me to share a simple snapshot with a few words, rather than to sit down and write a chatty post... a sad sign of the times, i'm afraid....

wishing you all the happiest times of spring! xo

 

   xo