welcome home, self

home again.  back to the land of rattley leaves scuttling along the porch, to trees just beginning to blush into yellow and red and turning paler shades of tired, wan green.  to wistful, insistent summer temperatures and lingering katydids clicking far into the night.  to a house that seems a little foreign with its piles of miskempt papers and magazines, its dust and its mayhem and its routines that waited so patiently for me to return.  nothing and everything has changed.  i'm a week older, a week more worn down, a week fuller of stories and adventures and friendships rekindled, new ones begun.  life truly is so very full.  there are steps everywhere - steps leading up, and around, and down again - the same steps, leading this way for some people, that way for others, and for me, one way in the earlier hours and back up again after walking through forests cool with damp moss and smooth stones and the hush of tall northwestern evergreens towering regally over us as we ambled about on paths of wood and stone and shattered bamboo. but then, i'm getting ahead of myself; let me step back and start again.

art and soul is held inside of a hotel, out by an airport, on the outskirts of the very beautiful portland, oregon.  once my plane sets down and i take the shuttle over to the hotel, i rarely have the pleasure of stepping back outside the front doors, or breathing fresh air, setting foot on grass, touching a single tree, until the weekend when i am winging my way back home again.  it is a whirlwind week of teaching full workshops, visiting with students, other teachers, all of whom are friends; of vending jewelry in a feeding frenzy of a vendor sale on saturday night, until late late hours past dinner time, and then hopping on a plane in pre-dawn hours to head back east after minimal sleep.  there is next to no time for spontaneous visits with other folks, and dinners are usually wolfed down late in the evenings after packing up teaching materials at the end of very long days filled with demonstrations, hammering, more demos, more hammering, and more sharing of techniques - so much so that i without fail come home from these trips with no voice.  it is worth it?  absolutely.  i've been doing this for going on eight years, and when i feel the arthritis and age pulling me down, down, down, i remind myself how wonderful it is to see my old friends and new, to share information with those who are so very excited to learn, to watch them create their own individual works of art, their own styles woven through the pieces that they create under my tutelage, and to wave them off with a hug, a smile, and a blessing when all is said and done.  i'm kicking myself for not remembering to take photos in the workshops, once again; i was so busy sitting at the tables working with students one on one that i never would remind myself to document the artwork and the actual workings of my fledglings as they toiled and drilled and wired away to their hearts' content.  the photo i'm showing here (click for detail) was taken at the very, very end of my two day "touching the elements" workshop when the student (i'm absolutely KICKING myself for not getting her name - if you are out there, please let me know!) walked up to show me her end result of the lovely wallhanging she had so proudly created.  i can see her face - beaming - so happy to use the rocks, pottery shards and glass that she had gathered from glass beach in california.  a beautiful job, well done!  nor did i get photos of dear gina armfield, who was with me for those two days, creating not one piece, but four.  four! to give as gifts.  gina, you are a trooper, and a sweetheart, and i love you with all of my heart. 

i did manage, and don't kill me helen, to capture this photo of a beloved student - helen denham - drilling away at rocks and glass.  there was something about the way that helen looked in those safetly glasses of gina's that won my heart over (as if it took the glasses?).  helen signed up for all three of my teaching days, bless her valiant heart, and was a huge help in the morale department when my east coast energy level would sink to new lows, come mid afternoon.

  here too, is sweet glenny.  we would not have art and soul, were it not for glenny, and cindy (no photo, darn it, and i know cindy is beaming over that - victory!).  those two women work tirelessly, throughout the year, to assure that each and every student and teachers' needs are met, and that the retreats all go off without a hitch - no small feat, mind you.  i would not want that job, and am forever grateful that they continue to juggle a bunch of temperamental artists with such grace and aplumb.  thank you, thank you, thank you, forever and amen.

when doing a bit of research on the net for teahouses in portland, i came across a new york times article about the incredibly beautiful chinese gardens, which has a teahouse run by the tao of tea (words can't begin to express the beauty), and the achingly beautiful japanese gardens as well.  misty and i had saturday free, both of us having completed our teaching on friday late afternoon, until the vendor sale that evening.  so, off we happily (excitedly) went first thing in the morning, with a ride thanks to sweetheart kelly rae, who was headed downtown to her friend's ordination.  it was cold that morning - grey, damp, cold.  we stumbled across the saturday market, held under a huge bridge, where misty purchased for my birthday an intricate handmade silk and felted shawl that went immediately around my shoulders, making me feel as if i resembled a sheltered water lily, or at least a painting of one on legs.  delicate and warm all at once, it is light and airy and looks as if it is made by nimble fairies' hands.  can you see the tired look in my eyes?  tired.  tired, and in need of tea.  and tea we had.  oh, what tea we had.

i call this photograph of misty's hands with her little covered cup of tea "old forest for cold weather".  the tea was earthy smelling, and actually called old forest - as if it came from a place where tall, ancient trees grew, trees with voices that sounded like the wind itself, and the floors of the forest are covered in moss and lichen and are soft and cushioned and padded expressly for our comfort.

what is tea, if not for sharing?  mine was in a tiny cup, with a tiny pot, and called monkey king.  delicious and hot, with several refills of water, we shared and sipped and languished over a beautiful, simple lunch in our corner spot with windows that overlooked water and curly chinese roofed pagodas, making us feel as if we had stepped back into another time and very distant place altogether.

from china we stepped into japan, a rail's ride across downtown portland (do not ask me how or where, i never would be able to tell you) where paths through quiet woods wound 'round and 'round, up and up, until we reached a gate that led us into and through exquisite, simply executed beauty.  i'm sitting here not knowing what to tell you, or how to begin to describe our very abbreviated two hours in this place; just know that we were grateful beyond description that by providence we ended up spending our free hours on saturday wandering the paths under huge and little trees, sitting on stoops, resting before a rock garden, staring up into the leaves, breathing the cool, moist air.  it was, for lack of another word, sweet paradise.

"Most cherished in this mundane world is a place without traffic; truly in the midst of a city there can be mountain and forest".  - Wen Zhengming (1470-1559)

we walked.  we ambled.  we stopped, and lingered, and walked slowly again, up the stairs that led us back out into the world that was full of hustle and traffic and noise.  back to the hotel we ultimately went, just in time to race down to the ballroom and set up our paintings and our jewelry, so that the craziness could ensue.  not only did everyone and choose, but they also (i'm delighted to say) cleaned me absolutelyout, within fifteen minutes - i am not exaggerating - of when the doors opened.  you can see me here, calmly sorting necklaces and earrings, just before insanity hit.  i had brought enough jewelry with me so that i thought i'd bring some home and list for you on etsy.  alas:  there is nothing, not one single thing, left to list.  crazy.  but, who's complaining?  i just shake my head, and smile.  smile, as i am here with sweet liz, another happy and beautiful customer.  isn't she a honey?

portland, and art and soul, all seem very far away to me now.  like a dream, something i left behind by sailing up into the clouds in my sleep (quite literally - all the way to atlanta, and then from there to charlotte, sleeping, and sleeping, and sleeping while the pilots winged me safely back to north carolina), dreaming of everyone i had seen, of those i had not seen (there were quite a few), of those i barely saw (and even more of those).  time is always short these days, and precious.  and very, very sweet.  i take nothing for granted.  i breathe deeply, and hug often, and express my feelings freely.  it gets me in trouble sometimes, but more often than not, it rewards me in ways far greater than i could ever have imagined.  this is a wonderful life i lead, this business of working with my hands and making a living by teaching what i do, by selling my designs, by traveling the world far and wide simply because i pick up a pair of pliers, some wire, an image, a word or two and do my own special thing.  the very idea that it has come to this amazes me still.  that it continues as strongly as it does is something that absolutely astounds me.  thank you, everyone.  thank you for being there, for the hugs, for the laughs, for the stories, for being yourselves.  students, friends, fellow teachers, glenny, cindy, i am grateful for you all, each and every single one of you.  times good and bad come and go, and here i still am, tapping away on this keyboard, hammering away on my little square bench block, thinking random thoughts, snapping photographs, stringing notions together like a lifeline piece of jewelry one can wear around the neck from dawn til dusk, and maybe even straight on through the night.  wear it with pride, is what i say.  hold it in your hand, keep the trinkets warm next to your skin, and add some stories of your own along the way.  xx

Comments

[laura from coconutannies]

Dear Nina,
I am only half way thru reading the account of your week away but I just have to stop and say THANK YOU, THANK YOU for sharing your trip! I feel like you took me with you - in your pocket maybe! Your blog is such a pleasure! I need to go get a cup of something yummy and then finish your tale. Hugs, Laura

[kim]

so glad you are home, i missed you and how wonderful that you sold all your stunning pieces and how lucky for those buyers!! they truly have something magnificent!!!
xoxo~kim

[Samm]

oh so lovely! what a nice but busy time you had. i love the photos of your time in the japanese garden - a place where you must have felt so calm for just a moment in your chaotic week. so nice to have your inspiring words to pour over once again Nina. Welcome back!
xo samm

[Leslie Marsh]

Such a wonderful post, Nina.

I always search the borders of your blog, looking for a class you might be teaching on the east coast, but I think I'm going to travel west to meet you.

[JUDY WILKENFELD]

G'day mate!
I love Japanese gardens to, so ordered yet so tranquil.
As I read this post I am wearing my "remnants" (you know why) and revelling in the wearing of it as it is a Nina original, so beautiful, such amazing and intricate workmanship.
Thanks for such a lovely read whilst sipping on my morning coffee. xo

[Julie H]

Oh Nina, the end of this post left me feeeling a little lonely, then I realised it was as if you had held my hand through a shared journey and then when the tale ended your fingers slipped away.
Thank you for once again taking me with you.

[Cindy Dean]

So glad you are back and envious of all the people that went to Art & Soul that took classes with you.

[Frankie Kins]

I'll agree with Julie H. I loved reading this post and honestly couldn't wait until you returned to read about the trip. But now that I have read it, I feel a bit lonely, too, and a space in my heart once again has been touched by your lovely word pictures.

Isn't it wonderful that you sold out? Yipee!! In 15 minutes? Yay! Now, enough congratulations for you. Pass some of that magic over here, would ya? :D xoxo

[Karen Cole]

So it was a yin and yang trip, huh?

The bad stuff always makes you really appreciate the good stuff.

Hampton.....Hampton....Hampton.....

That was a subliminal message, brought to you by those of us on the east coast. :-)

[Judy Wise]

Dang, those are cute shoes, Nina! Thank you for the glimpse into your time at Art & Soul and thank you for the warmth you extended my way. My thoughts are with you often. xoxo

[katie]

dearest nina,
i love the japanese gardens, i'm so happy you and misty got to spend some time there; i haven't been there in years, not since i lived in portland, it's something walter and i want to see again on one of our portland excursions. the dinner with you, misty, and alexandra helped make my 50th the most memorable birthday yet. you know i will treasure the beautiful necklace you created for me for ever and ever...much love xoxo
katie

[Cindy Ericsson]

your "own special thing" is so lovely -- thank you for sharing it with all of us here.

[gina armfield]

it was so great to see you and to be in your class for two whole days - I learned so much - thank you for everything beyond words - your encouragement, love, support and friendship - wasn't long enough - really feel like you need to take a trip out west to the sea .... ;) xoxox

[kelly rae roberts]

loved what i made in your class. and i loved running into you girlies for chats and hugs and moments. it's all in the moments..

and i'm so glad you got to see portland!
xoox

[pixie]

nina, i'm not sure i've ever heard of portland's gardens described with such affection and love of trees and many have written on it. but that is how wonderfully honest you seem to be, isn't it? i go there often and try to go to the teahouse within the chinese garden each time, how i love the tea which has a flower bloom in the cup as you are drinking it...
what amazing work and life you do have. thank you for inspiring deeply!
pixie

[annie lockhart]

i am so homesick to see you...this post only makes it more so...wishin' i could've been there....it all sounds so wonderful. those photos of the gardens...amazing. xo & mmmmmmmmmmmmm...me

[arlene]

I love your beautiful prose Nina...it's like a walk through the gardens. We visited them one year ago, after driving to Portland from Alberta, Canada. We had tea in the same tea house, took many photos, and just breathed! Thanks for bringing it all back as fresh as if it were today. Your blog is a healing balm.

[Goddess of Leonie]

Dear Nina ~
Such a joy to "meet" you online... your words evoke spirit, calm, joy, knowing...
Thank you and blessings to you,
Leonie

[ro bruhn]

Thanks for sharing your wonderful week with us, it brings back memories of the frenzy of Fremantle. The photos of you and Misty are beautiful, you both look so contented with your lives. I'm so looking forward to next May.
Ro
xo

[beth]

Thanks for taking me on a wonderful trip with you...I enjoyed myself so much.
Your stories and a cup of tea are all I need to start my day.
Now if only I could get my hands on a piece of your jewelry, I'd have it all.

[misty]

it was such sweet paradise, even if only for a few hours, it was. i feel blessed for that time spent together, creating new memories to forever keep tucked where i can reach them in days where moments like these seem so far, far away. thank you. xoxox

[tracie Huskamp]

my dearest nina... as always, it is a pleasure and delight to see you

and yes... never enough time to do and say all the things you wish too

i have tucked something in the post for the birthday girl. i considered bringing it with me to portland, but decided against it. since, it is much more fun and intriguing to receive a package in the post.

i am sad that it may be well into next year before i see your beautiful face again... but your words.. ... these thoughtful, delicate words are here to keep me company.

i will be anxiously awaiting your tales from your moments with mr. collins... please promise not to leave out any details

xo always!

[Chantal]

A jewel!!! This is what this post is to me. So full, so generous, so poetic.. like I perceive your heart and your soul to be. Thank you.

P.S: so glad you had such a great and successful time at Art and Soul. I hope I meet you there someday.

[nita from red tin heart]

All the pictures are so wonderful. I am glad you had such a good time. I love the picture of you. I also love the ones you took of your students. You always see the beauty of others and I love that about you. xo Nita

[Vickie]

Thanks so much for every bit of yourself that you share, for it does bring joy!

[Ariane]

Such lovely photos and a beautiful posting. I will need to visit the gardens and teahouse the next time I'm in Portland. Welcome home!

[Sharon]

Nina,

you look beautiful in the photo in the Chinese garden. Wonderful post!

Sharon

[Jennifer DiFalco]

Hi Nina,
Reading your post, I was proud to know that I had been a part of your week in Portland. You are quite an inspirational teacher and person. Thanks for the energy jolt and for the thrill of meeting you. Oh, and I loooove my bird and egg earrings!
Jennfer

[Isabel]

I think the key to your fulfillment is the love you put into everything you do, the way you give of yourself to others, to art, to being part of nature. It is difficult to find that point of liberation of self, but I am certain that once you did, the positive energy ensuing from you touched all of us, and we keep returning to your presence, your openness, and in my case that never met you-to your words as a way of being part of that energy.
I was thinking about clotheslines yesterday, how they still attract me as they did on my summer vacations at grandma’s- when we washed clothes in the river with homemade soap and hanged them to dry at the whims of the mountain air. I am still taken with clotheslines, with the way the scents of earth, sun, wind, and soap are captured in personal belongings, yet they so freely dance with the breeze, exposed to others... and reading your words this morning made me think of you as a wonderful clothesline from North Carolina.

[Chris]

what a delight way to spend time with a friend. thanks for the lovely post.

[Carole]

I know it's good to be home, but I'm so glad you enjoyed your stay here in Oregon. And glad that you had the chance to experience the gardens.

I've only been to the Chinese Garden once, but have been to the Japanese Garden many, many times. It's such a peaceful place, surrounded by the wooded areas of the park. I actually prefer it on a cloudy day when there aren't as many visitors and a person can feel secluded and part of the natural surroundings.

Enjoy your memories of this place.....

[lucinda]

all those beautiful photos and sentiments and all i can think of to say is: damn, those are great shoes...

[marita]

welcome back nina!! such beautiful images of creative moments with friends. the pictures of the different pavements are stunning as well. there is a certain atmosphere in the details...

[Sally Jean]

Dear Nina...I have been giddy for nearly a month and MUST thank you for the most BEAUTIFUL necklace in the world. In every way it is so "me"! I feel so blessed to have a wonderful Nina Collection...but this particular necklace was sooo right. Imagine my delight when my husband...let's call him DAVE(!)...draped it around my neck on Vendor Night. You know just the piece for him to surprise me with! So...thank you, wonderful, beautiful, dear Nina, for creating such lovely jewelry that can bring untold joy to myself and so many others!
xoxo, Sally Jean

[karen]

i treasure the time that we have in workshops together and the gift of your talent that you share so freely. and so it was that "treasures here" had to come home with me from portland. it has a special place in my home and my heart.