A Take on Mourning Jewelry

In Victorian days, when the common folk honored the Queen's lasting grief for the loss of her beloved consort, they adopted the strict royal rules of decorum for the ornament of those in mourning.  Jet, bog wood, subdued colors, deep sentiment all kept the lost dear one hovering near the heart in lockets, brooches and necklaces.  Here are some contemporary takes on that old custom, incorporating old objects that still hold sentimental, evocative power.

First, this necklace of festooned oxidized chain with a very old Czechoslovakian filigreed button, surrounded with gray freshwater pearls, above a "cameo" made of an antique schoolbook illustration set in resin.

And then, the next one, a bit more off-tradition, but still in the same vein, rustic white glass beads from India, my own hand made rose beads, tiny faceted oxblood-colored seed beads, and a rusted tin frame around the antique portrait of a school boy, with antique star-spangled button held pendant.  Modern in form, but still sentimental, which, perhaps, is no longer a modern thing.  Nevertheless, the heart has its needs.

Jewelry's first task was most likely as a social status indicator, to inform one's people of vocation, dedication, rank, events of one's life, such as arrival of puberty, birth, loss or victory.  It isn't a very long reach of time from the first strung shells to Victorian mourning jewelry, just the blink of an eye, really.

Out of the night that covers me,

    Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

    For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

    I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

    Looms but the horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

    Finds, and will find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

    How charged with punishments the scroll

I am the master of my fate:

    I am the captain of my soul.

"Invictus" by William Ernest Henley

The Woodland Floor in May

In order of appearance -- Jack-in-the-Pulpit http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arisaema_triphyllum, Wild Ginger http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asarum, Trillium http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trillium, sometimes called Wake Robin for its sprightly eager early first bloom in cool springtime, and Fairy Bells http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Disporum.  Jack's originally a native of Wisconsin, but here he is preaching in my back yard.  As we used to say in Georgia when someone held forth with whom we agreed, making argument unnecessary, "you're preaching to the choir."  The Ginger, Trillium and Fairy Bells I found during a hike on Tiger Mountain, and they are all native to the Pacific Northwest.

Mother's Days

My brave, beautiful and resourceful Mother has passed away after a brief illness.  Here she is when she was young, her passport photo collaged over the envelope in which our passport was kept when we followed Dad to Japan during the Occupation.  Wasn't she beautiful?  She stayed that way, too.  I can close my eyes and remember the color of that pansy-shaped brooch and the cloth of her "utility suit."  We have had a long journey together, and now it will be so hard to keep traveling on without her, but I expect her feet were sore from so many, many steps.  The women of Mom's generation were Can Do women and she Could.  We are so grateful for all she has given us, with our bodies forged from hers, her children and grandchildren left behind.  Now she stays with us in our hearts, which we hope will be much easier on her little feet.

Mary Etta Montana Malone Moore

July 13, 1916 - May 3, 2010

I Love You

The White Box, a work in progress ... or The Mother Lode

Contents of the Box:  Early 19th c. legal file copy in handwritten script on tissue, book boards, cobbler's nails, carte de visite, glass beads, marbled papers, antique text, horse hair, porcupine quill, bone buttons, antique child's shoe, drusy quartz crystal fragment, beach-found mystery metal, old brocaded ribbon, and marvelous white hand-made box found at Bernie's Antiques with a glass front and real patination.  Thanks to Bernie for the collaboration.  I am not sure I want to tell you where Bernie's Antiques lives, because it would be alot like telling where my berry patch is -- Bernie is the last of the true bricoleurs and he has marvelous things, large and small, quite old and tatty, all jumbled together, not staged, and it just brings out the huntress in me.  He says he doesn't find these things in estate sales, he just cleans out old houses.  I thought for sure I'd found the Mother Lode when I found Bernie's place.   In fact, think that's just what I'll call this piece.

The Prize: I've Got All My Sisters With Me

I finally worked up the nerve to alter a tintype from my collection and use the old stock bronze award medal plate, and both together!

This piece was made, except for the nice, airy Vintaj natural brass chain, clasp, Chinese turquoise disks and the short string of small oblong mother of pearl beads, completely of recycled old jewelry.

The tintype is a portrait of two sisters in c.1870 attire, cut into a circle and mounted, first on a large carved mother of pearl coat button riveted to the bronze medal.  The surface has been waxed to help preserve it.   May the Circle be Unbroken!

The graduated mother of pearl beads were given to me by a friend and they have been worn smooth to a soft, waxy shine by a woman we've never met, who now we can touch though the patina she gave them with her touch and her hope for beauty.

The rose-shaped beads are from a contemporary piece found in a thrift store and repurposed, as well as the locket shaped bead pendant.  That has been etched with hand written script, "we are family," and patinated a color that called for the turquoise disks.

A friend says the rayed motif seems somehow religious, like things she's seen in Europe, and that works for me, along with the concept of the medal, thence to soldiers, since we are beset on many sides with the trauma and tragedy that breaks our families -- it does take some soldiering to preserve and honor our relationships with loved ones, whether they are natural born family or those we "adopt."  Of course, this meaning all came together about 3 days after I finished the piece, which is part of the wonder of found-object work:  synergy and serendipity that reach out from our deeper places unconsciously and give meaning.  Well, I am happy that happened here!  So, love to all my friends and family, enduring love, soldiering love that persists and doesn't give up. 

Let nothing take away our capacity for love, patience, and acceptance of our beloveds just as they are.  It helps me to remember what another friend taught me -- you don't always have to understand, just accept.  That couldn't hurt so much, could it?

We Are (All) Family!

Peace, Brothers and Sisters.  Eyes on the Prize.

Lady Bug Circus

Liar, Liar Pants on Fire Nose Is Longer than a Telephone Wire!

This is a marvelous piece of work from my friend, Jenny Fillius, who makes wonderful collages from recycled tin.  It's irresistable, so don't resist, check out her offerings on Etsy at http://www.etsy.com/shop/Ladybugcircus or explore her website in the list of adventures to the right of this page.

I just don't know how you could ever not love such fabulously happy and special things -- go take a look!

The Well of Darkness

Si cada die ... a found object neckpiece and tribute to a poem by Pablo Neruda.  Etched on a tablet of bronze, the opening words to the poem, with a bit of brass found at my feet on a walk, another bead by Bernard Jones, a nice bronze bead, and a fresh water pearl, suspended on an asymmetric array of magnesite chunks and raw brass chain.  Thank you, immortal poet, for the inspiration that still calls from your beautiful words, "if day sinks into night ... there exists a well where light is imprisoned ...."  This speaks so directly to my heart as an artist, one who uses things found at her feet, and who needs great patience, and the time to let the inspiration express itself.

You can't really make out all the words, of course, but I hope that will encourage you to memorize them.

See my posting below for the full text.

"There exists a well where light is imprisoned ... we must fish for fallen light with patience."