Diversity -- it's a Grand Thing

I'm in the studio today, checking inventory and doing some odds and ends -- nothing unusual for Monday. In the silence of it all, I had another one of those "it was there all the time you just didn't see it moments." While all of my jewelry designs are similar in that they have a distinctive feel to them (at least I think they do), in many ways they are really quite diverse. Case in point -- this gorgeous pearl, aquamarine and patina starfish number (which sorry to say is not for sale) keeps me company on a bust across from my workbench.

National Dog Day!

I don't know about all of you, but my life just wouldn't be right without my little Beatrix Potter in it. I just heard that today is National Dog Day - so figured it was the perfect time to sing her praises. As many of you might remember, after 14 years of life in New York City and here in the the Pacific Northwest, my sweet Agatha Christie left this earth. My heartbreak and feeling of total emptiness in trying to have a life without her was overwhelming.

OHSU & Mt. St. Helens

At the beginning of summer, I posted a pix of Mt. Hood popping up in the distance while I was outside of Fessler's. While I told you that I could also see Mt. St. Helens that day, I did not post a pix as you would not have really been able to see it...and so you would think I was nuts!

  

Cauliflower? Yes, Cauliflower.

Yes, that is cauliflower in purple, yellow and white. Mother Nature...once again pulls our all the stops. If I was going to do something with this inspiration in gemstones...what would it include?

"Everybody's gone surfing..."

Seems to me that there are a lot of little reminders of my past around these days. Today I pulled into the gas station and this VW bus pulled in at exactly the same moment!

All Things Miniature

I think that one of the biggest reasons I love designing and making jewelry is because I am a fiend for the details on little tiny things. As long as I can remember, I have had a fascination with all things miniature...okay, maybe not miniature golf...but most things miniature. And, now I'm trying to keep my mind out of the gutter -- that being said, I think you might know where that might have gone. Now...back to my original thought.

The Gift of Song

Back on February 24th, I talked about unexpected gifts and how I had been given one that very day. Today, I got another...in the way of these pix I found in my dad's desk that now sits out in my garage. My oh-so-talented nephew, who I had the great pleasure of giving the guitar that my dad handcrafted for me in 1964, showed up today in a spot where I least expected him. Looking at these pix just confirms my thinking that we are connected to our passion very early in life.

A Pickle and A Pix

Yesterday a friend shared a jar of homemade pickles with me which I happily welcomed with open arms -- both friend and the pickles! It's interesting how powerful the sense of smell is -- at least my sense of smell. When I popped the seal on the jar and got a whiff of dill and vinegar I was transported back to my grandma's kitchen on Flower Street in LA; I immediately felt her warmth, the sense of safety and the love I always felt when I was with her. She was an amazing spirit and even as a young kid I knew that about her. I was a tiny one and the youngest of all the cousins -- so needless to say I think I got special treatment -- but maybe all the cousins got the same treatment and thought they were getting treated in a special way -- whatever it was, she made me feel loved in a very unique way. I can close my eyes and see the big kitchen that always smelled of fresh vegetables, freshly canned pickles or something wonderful baking. I see the deep sink and can almost reach out and count the tiny tiles that lined the back splash and counter tops. Boonya (as we called her) would tie an apron up under my arms and push a kitchen chair up to the sink so I could stand and help her do whatever it was she was doing. In her eyes, it was about the process, not so much the end product. If I broke or spilled something -- it didn't matter. We'd clean it up together and go on with whatever it was we had been doing. If we were cooking or baking - it really didn't matter if it didn't look right or taste all that great in the end -- it was all about doing something together. I know that my love of cooking and baking started early and with her and I thank her for that.

Stay with me here -- this is related! I spent the better part of yesterday cleaning out part of the garage -- my dad's desk is now out there and as I looked through one of the big drawers I found a cluster of old photographs and this one was in with the bunch. While my Boonya was my mom's mom, she and my dad had a special connection of some sort. I think she really understood my dad on so many different levels. So I wasn't surprised to find this image in with the others. I think this pix captures Boonya's caring spirit -- sitting in the pasture at my mom and dad's old place feeding a cow and the geese. Honestly, who sits in a pasture feeding the cow? That was Boonya. I am so grateful to have shared a life with her that was rich and full. As I write, I do so hope that when I am physically no longer in this life, people whose paths I've crossed will have nice memories of how I touched their lives in some little way. After all...isn't that what it's all about?