Sunday, May 10, 2015

Nature's Wheel

“Life is like a flowing stream; once the flow stops, our life becomes stagnant. When we remove the dams and debris we have accumulated and encourage it to flow freely, it becomes a source of sustenance and renewal and growth for us and for all with whom we share it.” 
~Tom Hackett~

With Spring and a renewed focus on what truly matters in my life, the dams are slowly but surely coming down.  This past Winter was burdensome and heavy.  I felt the cold on so many different levels.  I was actually melding with the bitterness and frigidity that Winter oftentimes brings as she invades the colorful hues of Autumn.  

Little did I know that my sweet dog was in the Autumn of his life, and as January arrived, he would quickly move into the Winter of his days.  It was painful.  Excruciating?  Agonizing?  Actually, there really are no words to adequately express  the feelings that such a tremendous loss brings with it.  If you've ever really loved something, and lost it, then you are enlightened to this heartache.  

But Nature is beautiful in her ever turning wheel, and just like the cold, harsh Midwestern Winter, the loss of Guinness was also a season in my life.  As Winter slowly retreats and gives way to the flourishing blossoms and colors of Spring, I am embracing her lesson of this loss and flow. By releasing fear and anger, and surrendering my pain, I'm feeling renewed and my creativity is slowing raising her head.  I still cry almost every day, but I know he walks beside me, and will always be with me.  And I know, without hesitation, that he guided Stout my way.  Who else would give me such a miracle, complete with a heart on  his nose?

For those of you who may be going through something similar, or equally painful, seek solace in the seasons of life.  Know that Winter always gives way to Spring...

Some new things for Spring, coming soon!  I love you all.  Thank you for being in my life!


Wednesday, November 5, 2014

Succumb to the Numb

I am going to die with my music still in me.  I'm going to die with my music still in me if I don't start making some radical changes in my life.  Yes, this is a rather intense and introspective, personal statement. It's not easy to admit that I'm lacking color and energy, and have, by default "succumbed to the numb".  I recently read a quote by Anais Nin that seemed to shake me to my core because is resonated so deeply with my soul.

"You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living. Then you read a book… or you take a trip… and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable: first, restlessness. The second symptom (when hibernating becomes dangerous and might degenerate into death): absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom, death. Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it. They work in offices. They drive a car. They picnic with their families. They raise children. And then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death. Some never awaken." 
~Anais Nin~

When I first started making jewelry, I felt like a giddy child that had just been given the keys to a magical kingdom.  I spent hours exploring and playing and making things.  I was spellbound by this mystical place.  My muses  constantly surrounded me, and urged me to try new things.  And I felt this way about it for years. But lately, my muses are elusive.  I missed them at first, but then I got used to them not being around.  Deep exhaustion set in.  A kind of "bone deep" tired.  And then...numbness. A surrender to the gray, grind of life. Existing but not really living.  I've slowly allowed the demands of life to extract the life force of creativity and exploration from me.  My soul is sad right now.  But I view it as a wake up call to take heed and notice. To acknowledge and embrace, once again, the things that make my heart happy and the activities that cause my soul to sing.  I have to create and dream.  I love writing and art and poetry and music.  I must surround myself with these pleasures to feel alive and justified. 

I realize that these feelings are cyclical, and they will pass.  One of my favorite authorsClarissa Pinkola Estés, says, “The psyches and souls of women also have their own cycles and seasons of doing and solitude, running and staying, being involved and being removed, questing and resting, creating and incubating, being of the world and returning to the soul-place.” 

I'm in a season of solitude and incubation.  The important thing is that I recognize it, acknowledge it and move forward with integrating the things I love so dearly back into my life.  Only then, will I be complete and whole. I refuse to die with my music in me.  I'd rather share it with the world.

Thursday, September 11, 2014

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nature's first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay
~Robert Frost~

I adore Autumn.  I love everything about it.  The scents and the colors and even the way the light gently falls on the early morning and late evening.  Rich hues of auburn, sienna and gold.  The aroma of freshly baked bread and thick hearty soups.  Sweaters and boots, hoodies, blankets and fires.  I was born during the Fall, and celebrate this season more than any other.  

But as much as enjoy this time of the year, I'm always met with a bit of melancholy that I cannot explain with the turning of the great wheel.  The warmth and light, like a sweet friend or beloved relative who has visited with you, and shared hours of fun and laughter, alas must bid you adieu. You miss this friend for days after her departure.  You feel empty, alone and shed a few tears.  Something is definitely missing, and nothing seems to replace this sinking feeling.  

We are approaching the Autumn Equinox, otherwise known as Mabon.  Mabon marks the time of reaping the harvest and gathering the fruits of summer labor and toil.  The day and the night are equal.  Balance exists, if only for a day.  However the scales will tip, and our beautiful, sweet golden light will once again will slowly slip away for a while. I always miss the light,and the absence of it makes me a bit sad.  

These pictures were taken a couple of weeks ago.  This GOLDEN color was permeating the early evening sky and I was able to capture a moment. Pure, sweet, GOLDEN light.  It graced me with its presence, it then, just like that, it was gone.  I was gently reminded that nothing gold can stay...

"The days may not be so bright and balmy - yet the quiet and melancholy that linger around them is fraught with glory.  Over everything connected with Autumn there lingers some GOLDEN spell - some unseen influence that penetrates the soul with its mysterious power.
~Northern Advocate~



Friday, August 29, 2014

Vintage Moon Collection!

Oh how I love the Moon.  La Luna.  The feminine divine.  I've always been drawn to her.  All her phases.  Her soft, gentle glow among the stars provides me with comfort.  She is ethereal and magnificent.  

I wanted to incorporate the essence of a vintage moon into a collection.  Softness and light.  Haze.  Enchantment.  Glow. Bewitching. Captivating.

Here are a few new items from my Fall "Vintage Moon" Collection. I am loving how the patina pieces evolved.  The sunflower and seahorse are perfect demonstrations of taking something old and lifeless and infusing color and creativity.  My Mom gave me the seahorse years ago.  It was a worn pewter color and although a very special to me, I felt it needed to be amended with some warmth and light.  (Next time, I'll take before pics).

The patina worked beautifully on everything.   

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Sweet Summer Light

“It was deep afternoon when shadows begin to grow, light becomes gold, and you realize that this particular day has reached its destiny. 
Like old age, it’s not yet over, but there’s no denying the time of day.”

I love the soft, sweet light of a late Summer evening.  It's the slow decline of the Sun's beautiful light.  You can almost feel the tease of an early Autumn in the air, and the magic of a moment is captured in a memory and if you're lucky, a snapshot in time.  This afternoon, I lingered in the honey light, played a bit with my camera and was SO surprised to find a small blackberry bush in my little neighborhood.  I was immediately transported back to my youth.  We'd pick berries and cherries and peaches for pies, which my grandmother would make from scratch.  I took some time, ate a few sweet berries, and quietly whispered a prayer of gratitude for those precious memories and for this day, for my life and this magical sweet Summer light.