Monday, July 30, 2012

Interior Ladders.

Every once in a while I like to fancy that I have graduated from my own darkness, that my last descent was surely the end of that stuff; only blue skies from now on.

It's easy during those Halcyon days - easy to forget the presence of Grief and Despair and so hard to let go of the last light moment and answer when they knock unexpectedly on a Sunday afternoon.

Interior Ladder #4

"Oh, Shi- I mean, 'hello!'", you say with a false brightness all the while wondering how long they'll stay and if their boots are as muddy as they look and is that a steamer trunk full of clothes for you to mend? Really?

Yes, it is. Yes they are as dirty as you may have thought and indeed they will track a thick layer of unwash over everything you once found crisp and folded and tidy and yours.

Interior Ladder #1

Rung by rung you will descend past annoyance down through gritted teeth and frustrated tears until at last (weeks past your tantrums and surrender) these unwelcome Holy Visitors hold up a mirror to your bare, haunted and beautiful face and the reflection shows a depth of spirit that revives your will

Until what once drove you batshit now barely catches your eye

Until you've cried a river you could skate away on (ah, Joni..)

Until you understand that you are in the presence of God's most mysterious work when the darkness descends.

Interior Ladder #3

This series is entitled 'Interior Ladders' and I wish most for the pieces therein to impart a sense of fearlessness in the woman who wears them.

A recurring theme in my metal and leather work is aspiring to a sense of self-held grace no matter where we find ourselves; from Ruin to Redemption, a place to reside.

Back in March only weeks after the birth of Orion a dear friend asked if I'd like to take a class with her entitled 'Painting on Enamel' up in Mendocino and despite my fatigue and fears I answered 'yes' without hesitation (and with a lot of active encouragement from my In-Loves who made the trip possible in so many ways). How was I to know that in the affirmative yelp I had built a rung out of thin air? 

I use it now, that ladder, those enameled pieces to travel up and down the daily challenges and rewards of motherhood and artistry.
Interior Ladder #2

I built these necklaces (loaded with symbols and care) in the hope that they help your proverbial feet and hands move up and down the emotional longitude with ease.

Inquiries are welcome Here.


A Personal Note:

It took a couple months of running myself sore to understand that there was something amiss inside, something bigger than just simply being a bit 'off'-
no amount of bloating my schedule was going to keep it at bay, in fact the more I ran the faster and more toothy 'it' grew.

'It', I suspect is something hormonal. Anxious, on overdrive. I've made the choice to introduce therapy to the equation and a blessed few days per week of in-home childcare: I am working on being gentle with these soft spots. Working to understand and accept this lower-rung experience in all its Divine Muck. Writing here to say it's beyond OK to shout "Uncle!" when physical or mental health concerns are running you ragged: it's imperative.

I feel hesitant to share this vulnerable place because I don't understand it yet, but if I only come here and write down the lovely parts then I simply add to the Blog-related artifice that keeps so many women reading gorgeous words, looking at stunning pictures and asking, "Why doesn't my life look like that?"

None of them really do look like that when you view through a panoramic lens, my friends, but that's a post for another day.   (The title could be "Aspiration Artifice and Authenticity -or- Everyone Farts in Their Studios" - a very interesting exploration of a relatively new cultural phenomenon!)

I digress.

For today, be easy on yourself. Maybe a pedicure is in order, or a latte: make mine decaf and I'll meet you at that beachside cafe: heaven knows we deserve a treat.

With love,

Saturday, July 21, 2012

Interior Ladder

Sterling and fine silvers
enamel graphite and watercolor on copper
quartz crystals

A new series coming soon.


Wednesday, July 18, 2012

May I present...

Specializing in special and unique
banded agates
moss and plume agates
and hard-to-find materials.

For the stone connoisseur!!

Stock is limited and new postings may not happen frequently on account of the babe, but when I do list, they'll be rare beauties; trust me!


Monday, July 16, 2012

Delicate Cycle

Hammer Formed Sterling Pod Necklace with Pearl and Faceted Amazonite 

Bee Wing in Sterling (two available-mirror images) 

Carnelian Post Dangles with Faceted Amazonite Dangles (3 inches) 

Jacaranda Cutout Necklace with Sterling Sphere Detail

Jacaranda Triple Sprig Coin with Mendocino, California Beach Glass 

Delicate Cycle:

sweet and tender affordable treasures

in the


My hands aren't happy unless they are making. 

These past few weeks have shown me gently what needs care and I am attending to those things, some days through
the glory of the work I love with all my might.


Friday, July 13, 2012


I love when onesies are just as much for adults as they are for babies:
we have to get our daily humor somewhere!

More pictures


Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Ghost Ferns

Even in your absence I catch myself looking for you,
smelling your woolen cologne
your perfume
your fur and finery…

There is a piece of you in everything I do, somehow
a presence that permeates all;

a ghost

Remember how you kept us up nights?
Your incessant rascal nature?
I hear it in the raucous laughter of teenage girls passing the house
in the mournful howl of the four a.m. transient
harsh and loud
a soundtrack to the daily thousand goodbyes and greetings.

I rise halfway from my chair
becoming the Me of four years prior
before I catch the chain again
before the machine resumes its perfect function….

It must sound strange for all the rattle
but I am comforted by the astral proximity
Glad for the company
Certain that you must delight the baby
because I know the veil is thin for him;
When he laughs and grasps at nothing I sense arrival.

You blessed me 
Made me feel lucky and chosen

It is warm tonight
The peepers have started their late summer calling
they beckon me to the yard
where I stand under the stars looking up
and though you wind about my chest
ethereal and healthy

I miss the subtle caress in my heavy hope and whisper skyward,

"Wait for me
Wait for me
Wait for me."

Ghost fern trio of belt buckles:
soft and hard
sumptuous and earthy.

5 inches by 3.25 inches to the edge of the triple-scalloped demi-wings.

In the 


Friday, July 6, 2012


We went for a walk on the night of the 4th
Orion in the carrier 
Anthony and I in conversation
reminiscing about family outings past, what we did as kids...
mostly we marveled at the sound of bottle rockets and firework displays near and far.

In between sentences I looked down and there on the corner of 14th street
was a perfect massive carpenter bee - the biggest I'd ever seen, easily two inches long
with a large wingspan and the neatly-tucked-frozen-forever legs of the dead.

Anthony carried it home for me in his palm
and did the delicate surgery and burial we have come to know well with winged things whose lives are done.

Even the slightest breath from my nostril sends the solo wing skyward; amazing how even without a body to carry the function is still so perfect, God's design so whole.

I've begun the dig-
Meditation every day for 20 minutes
chewing through thoughts without rushing
and asking humbly for a soft heart while I do this hard sweatless work.

There is a sour truth that has become apparent: no one had flung it at me in argument like a weapon,
it just suddenly made sense, all of these years of running:

I want only to love the best version of a person - the ideal paragon of virtue and kindness
whose secret thoughts are clean and worldly actions stainless...

We've all been dashed against the rocks of real life enough to understand this is folly, but I've stubbornly clung to the possibility that we can all play nice, all the time.

Lord knows I've kicked and screamed and acted indignant that those I love are flawed,
that I am, too...

I have punished transgressors 
by removing myself
by withholding love and warmth

clammed up
shut down
hitch-hiked out of town
hated the mirror's image when weakness reflected back

events of late have forced a respite, thank God: one can only edit life so much before it loses the wildness and soul of both street life and untouched deep woods.

In this gentler place I am simply showing up
for imperfect me
and imperfect you

trying to detach from hopes and expectations
in favor of organic creation
in favor of living now.


Monday, July 2, 2012

A Winner and Jam!

Before I announce the winner of my Five Year Anniversary Giveaway,
I want to share something with you that makes us all triumphant:

Step 1:

Start with the apricots!

Oops, wrong delicious peach-complected treat!!!

Yes, these will do!
Go for organic, since they are a thin-skinned fruit. 
The apricots I used are from old-as-the-hill trees whose fruit is smaller and more tart than conventional apricots - if you get commercially grown 'cots, just reduce your sugar in the recipe a smidge, to taste.

Halve and pit two pounds of apricots and throw them in the pot with one and a half ( 1.5 ) cups of sugar.

Split half of a vanilla bean down the center and scrape out the seeds, throwing the empty pod in, too:
I use a whole bean, but I am a vanilla lover!!

Cook over medium heat until your sugar liquifies,
and then let your mixture sit out on the stove for at least four hours or overnight so the fruit softens:
I prefer the four-hour option so I can stir the fruit:
what is not submerged under the liquid tends to oxidize, and I like my fruit jam pretty!

When your fruit is soft, pull out the vanilla bean pod, making sure to get as many seeds out as you can into the jam. 

Cook over medium heat for 20-25 minutes or until your fruit is glassy and broken into small bits that seem inseparable from the liquid they were once bathing in.

Ladle into sterile jars and process in a canning bath for 15 minutes,
or just simply jar them if you know you'll have them in the fridge for a month or less.

The result of this endeavor is a miraculous tangerine-colored jam with all of those beautiful tiny vanilla seeds.
The vanilla gives what would already be a sensational jam a warmth and depth that
just soothes the soul.

My favorite way to consume this sweet stuff, besides straight off the spoon?

Atop toasted homemade oat-wheat bread and cream cheese!

Put some up for the winter: you'll be glad come December's freeze.

And now the moment I've certainly been waiting for:

the winner of the beautiful blue bag is:


Please send me a convo 

to let me know where to ship this piece!

Thank you to everyone who entered, to everyone who has supported my work these last five years: here's to so many more!!!


Sunday, July 1, 2012

4 Months

My tiny Nomulan Overlord,
you are four months old today.

Last night as I was brushing my teeth I though of the evening some one hundred and twenty sunsets past
when my water broke and your arrival was imminent;

how I shook so hard my teeth chattered
excited and terrified
by the newness of our endeavor,
both of us doing this for the first time together.

For four months now I've watched you grow chubby from my milk,
watched your Daddy get wound around your dimpled pinkie finger
and I've succumbed to the all-consuming love of a mother
for her cub.

Not that I went down swinging: my love for you was fierce from the start,
from the moment I knew you existed.

I still remember standing in the kitchen looking out at the backyard
sometime last July.
It was morning and the world pulsed extraordinarily
with hummingbirds, butterflies, bees and flowering.
My feet felt rooted differently,
my head felt no gravity my heart had begun its maternal blossoming and I remember saying to myself, "I am pregnant."
Despite two tests that said it wasn't so
despite the fact that we'd only just begun to try...

A wise and beautiful woman in Petaluma
had said some months prior
"There is a soul waiting to be your child. I don't want to tell you to hurry, but.....they are so lovely, so
happy and they love you so much..."
Here you are!!
Here you are, my son!!

When I wake in the morning it's Christmas
When I lay you down fresh and warm in your bassinet every night it is with more gratitude than I've ever known;
my home is a Church.

Daily you teach me things about love 
about humor
about God...

Thank you for being patient
with this late bloomer
and for being my baby.

The Most Love in the World,
Your Mama