New new new!

Sorry I haven't posted in a while here. We've just started the arduous process of moving... It's going to be a pain, but definitely worth it in the end. I've got my studio space set up already, and I can't tell you how nice it is to finally have a space to keep my beads nice and to work without all sorts of stuff in the way or having to worry about where I put something because it's all right here! Check it out:

 

We're eventually going to replace the folding tables with a single sturdy table, but for now, they are fine. There's so much light, I love it! I've still got a lot of organizing to do, but it's already a thousand times better than my previous setup...which was pretty much nonexistent. XD YAY! On the left (along with my business papers and such) is my burgeoning collection of beading magazines. I am going to be labeling them for easy browsing. Up on the top shelf I've got my tiny collection of beading books (including a new one I'm going to share with you soon!), some design books for color inspirations, and a few books of fairy tales for when I'm starting to get frustrated---nothing clears your mind like a delightful story!

We took a long walk today. The woods were beautiful! I forgot my camera so I'm going to have to describe in words as best I can... The sun was glinting off the river and the rush of water filled our ears. The air had that green smell that comes with spring; everywhere were blooms---trilliums, wild violets, forget-me-nots, tiny star-shaped blossoms that we did not know the name of, minuscule orange bulbs springing from the moss like a forest in miniature, white blooms of wild strawberries. Light breached the canopy and fell like golden coins on all the new leaves. Just spectacular.

I'm drifting along on this sunny day and am very happy.
Wherever you are today, I hope you are happy, too. :)


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Embroiled Psyche

The moon was a giant, sunset-colored coin hovering over the horizon tonight. I was driving toward it and it was like finally moving toward home. When it rose, full and white, it made the clouds stand out as though they were sewn to the sky with silver thread. We went by an old cemetery that is said to house a ghostly woman with a pale gown; she did not show herself to us, but moonlight glinting off crooked stones was worth the drive. We were very tired, we were very merry; we had stopped at a cafe on the way for coffee. The wind howled all around us, bringing down tree branches and casting about debris in an eerie way. Then, it was back home again for wine and a game of Scrabble.

It's hard to know how to feel these days. Out in the world there is much anger, much unrest. The days this week have been marked by protest, both at home and abroad; there is the unfolding plight of working-class families in Wisconsin over union-labor rights, the movements of the House to curb government spending. The world is changing around us. This is an historic time; important things, important things.

My work has become much darker as of late, probably because of these uncertainties, the longing for simpler times, and the yearning for a return to the earth.

 

Even though I try hard not to, I inevitably bring these things to the beading table with me. They are always in the background, influencing my creativity. Music helps sometimes, but not completely. This isn't necessarily a bad thing; it's just a thing. It's soothing to work, to be doing something, because sometimes the world can make you feel so helpless.

What do you think? What have you done to "cope"?

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Creating and Being

Recently, For My Sweet Daughter had a beautiful post about origins and asked,

"How did you fall in love with the process of creating? Did you have a mentor?"

I didn't have any specific mentors; rather, there were several people who helped me become the creative person that I am.

My mother was one of those people. One of my fondest memories was the time we had to take an emergency trip to our grandparents' house. There wasn't time to pack any toys, and we were so bored. My parents didn't have a whole lot of money to buy anything for us to do. So my mother dug an ancient box of crayons and a pair of scissors out of a drawer, took a cereal box and some paper, and made us some mermaid paper dolls. They were beautiful dolls, and some of the best toys we ever had. I knew I wanted drawing to be a part of my future then. My parents may not have had a lot of money when I was growing up, but they made sure we had tons of books to read and things to craft with. We used to go to girl scout meetings and sometimes on camping trips; my favorite part was always the arts and crafts.

When I was much older, we went to a camp program run by Native American elders. It was they who taught me how to bead, who enlightened my spirit and revealed the community and the serenity that are possible through this most ancient of arts. Jewelry is not just made to accessorize; it has so many meanings, so many uses. It was the Native American Indians who sealed their treaties, not with signatures and handshakes, but with beads. They had belts to commemorate certain accomplishments, decorated headdresses to show rank and achievements, ornate garments specific to particular ceremonies and events. It was these things my elders imparted to me. Grandmother White Wolf, Woman-With-Two-Canoes, and Grandfather Running Wolf: if you ever stumble upon this page, I hope you realize how deeply I revere you and the things that you have taught me among the pine boughs and cedars, around the sacred fire, and to the shared heartbeat. <3

Amalie (my sister), Hope, and Barbara all deserve due mention here, as well. These women created with me, nurtured my penchant for making things, and shared in the community of creative minds.

And to those who ever inspired with their brilliant works or sheer passion for the arts,
this salute goes to you. <3 <3 <3

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Now. How did you fall in love with the process of creating? Did you have a mentor(s)?

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