New Neckpiece

A new neck piece, suitable for either gender, assembled from:

• A child's playset cookie tray from the turn of the century, with peeling, chippy green paint,

• An open box made from recycled tin, bolted to the little tray, collaged with a face cut from sheet music of 1913, a watchmaker's vial, and encaustic medium,

• A scrap of leather and text from a 1860s novel,

• A polymer clay bead masquerading as a Warring States bead, sold to me as imported glass paste contemporary made in Iran, by a dishonest shopkeeper in Seattle. But it's still cute.

The steel bead chain and copper eyelets complete an industrial, but rustic look.

On the back, to cusion the bolts that were finished as rivets (because, drat, they  were my last two and the nuts that would fit them are disappeared), I papered over with a classic face, either Plato or Socrates (I don't think they would mind the confusion), from an old magazine from Uruguay (from Fanciful Devices, of course).

There may be a story here about what is real, true or genuine, a discourse between Plato and Socrates, but I simply enjoy the way it looks.

The chain is quite long; the assembly slips on over the head and hangs just above the waist.

All these parts hung around my studio for years and somehow introduced themselves to each other  only after being neighbors for a long time.

I love wearing things like this, and may just keep it for myself.

It'll remind me not to get taken in by dishonest bead salesmen, although that is getting more and more unlikely as I get more experienced. That bead was made before I even knew what polymer clay was. I don't really mind having the bead, but it wasn't priced fairly. Well, Plato and Socrates both might advise not to get taken in by illusion.

Ma Petit Chou

This just in! My little 2-hour hinged box of upcycled burnt tin from Marlene True's class over the weekend at The Ranch.  Soundtrack, please.

If you want to really upcycle tin, and treat it like pure gold, Marlene's the one to see.  This box began with her pattern cut from a disassembled old whiskey bottle tin. I wasn't enamored of the orange, green and yellow 60s fridge color theme, so when Marlene suggested I torch it, that is just what I did.  And oh, the suble color play and sweet patina that resulted.  Such a great improvement.

Next, oh what to do with such a pretty little, somewhat torqued outta shape little thing? Well, paper over it for starters. But that all started with a wonderful seed catalog ad from The Modern Priscilla, February 1916, collaged to plastic cut from a putty knife, and covered with lovely mica. Still, it seemed a bit underwhelming, but it popped when I used some text behind the oval, and the interplay between the text shaded by the shiny mica and the text as-is introduced some action. At that point, I decided it had to be a brooch, my favorite kind of jewelry to make and wear, especially because the scale is large for that use, but the box has a deceptive simplicity.

Next, I remembered those old corked vials of seeds Randi gave me, after her trip to Haystack in Maine, home of some of the best found goodies ever.

Et voila!  I have a wonderful little wearable wunderkammer.  And this one's mine, all mine.  Besides, I have a way to go before I can fabricate a box that is True-true, untorqued and unwonky.  Meanwhile, I have learned to measure twice and cut once.  A hint for you folks who want to try using the beautiful tin:  use hair-fine sawblades, at least 6/0, and be prepared to break a few getting the hang of it.  Better yet, sign up for one of Marlene's workshops.  What you learn will go straight from class to your work bench, guaranteed.  You can't beet that.

Jingle Bells & Ten Cent Stamps

Theme music.  Warning, it is that music you hear over and over this time of year, but it's Glenn Miller!  So it swings.

You know that tatty old holiday corsage, the one that looks like it's made of a bottle brush and pipe cleaners, trying to be a fir tree and peppermint sticks?

Retire it!

Here's a replacement that I came up with:  a 1974 Christmas stamp (10 cents) with a Currier & Ives  gliding over the snow, held in a rustic frame made from a cookie tin, with a hand dyed ribbon bow and antique bell.  I made the pin from steel wire.

That sort of bell is actually known as a "crotal bell," meant to be worn on harnesses of horses or reindeer to jingle and sound a warning to people on the roadway of approaching traffic. Way better than blatting horns and rude gestures, I'd say, although "crotal bells, crotal bells, crotal all the way," doesn't seem to work very well. But then, it might make it so much less popular you wouldn't have to tolerate it in every elevator and grocery store for two months until the season passes.

I made another one of these with the 1973 stamp, only 8 cents, Raphael's Madonna and Child from the National Gallery of Art.

On both, I used encaustic wax and resin to cover the stamp, and in the case of the Raphael, I added a little fine canyon dirt around the edges for the look of a fine old thing that could perhaps use a touch of restoration.  And around the edges of each I added some faux gold foil for a little bit of shiny bright.  Just right for a sweater, coat lapel, or vest.

And here's Abbie, who is getting better every day and wants to get out of the pen where she has to stay to restrict activity while she heals.

She is wishing our friend, Kumiko, a happy birthday, even though she has to be at work today.

Abbie Has Surgery

My lively, dancing corgi, Abbie, had a bad spell of back pain just after Thanksgiving. We went to the emergency vet and were told she had signs of IVDD, or a possible ruptured disc. After a couple of days of conservative care with pain treatment, I began to see that it was necessary to know exactly what the problem was and what could be done to bring my girl back to her jolly self. Pain affects our personalities, you know.  I'm lucky that my friend Kumi works for one of the best veterinary neurosurgeons in our area, and she set up an appointment for us at Seattle Veterinary Specialists. After an excellent checkup and consult, we scheduled her for an MRI, and found she had a ruptured disc, a frequent malady of corgis and dachsunds, as well as humans. Next, my girl went to surgery, where the surgeon, Dr. Sean Sanders, removed the portion of the disc that was pressing on her spine.  Now she's home, with discharge papers, pages of instructions and lots of pills.  She has to be kept resting for the next 6 weeks, which means she's in the penalty box, poor baby, and she is assisted to the backyard business with the help of a supporting sling.

Here she is, with the zipper installed.  Please send some healing vibrations so we can go hiking in 2013!

She still barks when someone knocks at the door, appetite is undiminished, and once again can roll over on her side for belly rubs, and I am giving lots of those!

About the pills, friends.  You may think you can hide them in peanut butter or whatever, but they have a way of showing up again in the next few hours, mysteriously peanut butter free.  Puhtoooeee!  Go to the pet goodies place and get Pill Pockets and save yourself the frustration.  

Provenance Unknown

I have been keeping (well, hoarding) this beautiful painted bakelite moth inlaid with rhinestones for quite a while.  But now that the holidays are on us, I am having a sparkle attack. Trouble is, I know nothing at all about this piece. It came to me roughly repaired with crack just the right of center. Was that where the comb or brooch fixture was removed? We'll never know.

What do we know? It is bakelite, and faux tortoise shell, with picque treatment not unlike antique tortoise shell pieces. Look closely and see an incised design with green in it, possibly once metallic paint.  All the rhinestones are intact, but some have gone dark (a look I love, so rich, so nuanced).  It is molded.  So it is definitely bakelite because the galalaith ("French bakelite") doesn't mold.  It is carved.  The design puts it somewhere close to Art Deco.  The workmanship is definitely European, most likely French.  I fantasize a producer who moved from tortoise shell (a cruel industry) crafting to Bakelite, treating the material in much the same way. After all, technically, both are resin.

What did I do? First removed the ham fisted glob of unidentifiable glue that served as an erstwhile patch, and inspected the break. Not too bad, but must remember that if I use the piece as a pendant, that area is weak and the crack could spread.  So, in a bricolage fashion, I used watch crystal cement to seal the crack, and once cured, papered over the area with antique text soaked in resin.  I then wired a harness to the piece that would hold the grand old boullion tassel and a rope of old stock glass pearls and Swarovski crystals.  I then papered over that.  Voila!  A flapper's sautoir, of tiny pearls and crystals recycled from abandoned jewelry, right down to the nice spring loaded catch, many, many knots later.

Here's a close up of the repair, the harness, and the antique text. Sometimes random words out of context can be so provoking. I love it when that happens.

I think the tassel and rope of pearls are just right with this beautiful antique, which I prefer to think of as a moth.  Velvet wings, jewel colors, small spangles reflecting a lone lantern, etc.; very romantic. Go ahead, invite the sheik into your tent. You are young only once in this life!  So wear this with your satin chemise and dancing pumps to the Hot Club de France, and don't skimp on the toddy.  And click the link, it's Django Reinhardt, probably the most influential jazz guitarist of the 20th century, burning the air with his rendition of "Sheik of Araby."  Now, are you in the mood to party?

Thankful

I am thankful I figured out how to use these pretty little antique mirrored whatsits in a pair of festive (think pure frippery) earrings.  After carefully drawing a bead on the end of a very thin bit of brass wire, it was threaded through the central hole, with a bead cap serving as a boss for a finished look, coiled around in the back and on the sides, and then brought back into a loop for suspending.  The ingredients are:  dirty pearls (a personal fave in recycled materials; you know the kind:  she wore them every day, thickly crusting them with hairspray and talcum powder, and chipping away the nacre in places); old pearlized wired glass drops, etc.  Once wiring was done, I papered over the backs with text from an old French grammar.  And the major part, sequin covered balls from some time back, who knows when for sure.  Sweetly shabby and tres bricolage!

 

And then I finished off a pair of earrings made of another favorite material: salvaged tin; in this case a tin imprinted with a chewing gum logo and the name, "Chris," which had fallen to the ground, was run over and flattened by a car and then rusted for a few seasons until I found it.  There's no amount of faux antiquing that can reproduce the authentic look of this one.  I papered the back with text from a 1913 edition of The Modern Priscilla and added a pretty red glass bead and some steel findings of my own design.   

I'm thankful for found objects, you see.  They provoke thoughts of use and abandonment, also wastefulness, but they give us a second chance when we can wear them for personal adornment.

Abbie is thankful, too.

We wish all a peaceful holiday with ample opportunities to appreciate good fortune and love our abundant planetary home and fellow Earthlings.

Take Five

Here's the theme for the experience.  After that, try this.

Why five?  Well, I've just completed five days of study with master silversmith and designer, Valentin Yotkov, on the art of chasing and repousse.  Hands-on study of the great archaelogical treasure of his native Bulgaria is the foundation of his art.  You see, the art of chasing and repousse is indeed an ancient one, and we were privileged to have a master teach us what he has learned in a lifetime of study and application.

Another reason for the theme?  Our workpiece was based on 5 part symmetry.  So as we executed our workpiece we got to repeat each motif -- if you look at mine, you can probably tell where I began; that would be the weaker part.  One improves with repetition and drill, as in calligraphy or drawing.  It is a very tactile art, but also one of reflected light and a sense of volume and motion.  I could go on and on, since it is one of my favorite things to do as a metalsmith, but let's just cut to the pictures.

This is an example of Maestro's work, which he provided for us to study as a guideline.

The five part symmetry provides many contrasts, as well:  high relief, lower, and flat; and the rope motif, which was saved as the last step, and the most demanding.

Chasing is a combination of working on the front surface ("chasing) with liner and planishing tools, as well as a matte tool for texture on the background, and using punches on the back surface to raise the metal ("repousse").  Good practice produces a design that appears to be much deeper than it actually is.

Here's a view of the back of the piece above, so you can see that just because it is the back, doesn't mean it shouldn't be beautiful and cleanly executed. 

Here is our most excellent master, who shared generously of his hard won expertise -- in five short days, we learned secrets of the art that took him years to discover.

That's because there are few people who actually teach this art -- I studied some of the technique in college when I took a silversmithing degree, but these last five days taught more.  I feel grateful and excited, and ready to make at least five more of the workpiece, as Valentin recommends.  It takes critical practice to learn to handle the hammer and tools in a way that produces work that has vitality and expression, just as it takes a painter long effort in the studio to capture  "effortless" beauty.

Not quite finished, far to go, my own pitch pot, with the tools Valentin makes and provides for use in his classes.  The difference in his tools and the ones I had left from student days can't really be described.  Handled properly, his liners move across the metal with a sort of buttery silkiness.

When I finally clean the workpiece, and add some patina, wax it and buff it to show off the high spots, I will imagine it as an artifact found in the sands of the silk road and after that, I will sit down with it and make it better the next time.

It's all about take five, which means to take the time you need.  I'll take five from feeling that each thing I do has to be ready for sale, from counting the time it takes to make something and weighing it against a price.  I'll take five from even thinking I have to be "good" at it, or from thinking about the other things I "should" be doing.  I'll take five to enter a meditative state and work mindfully.   Thanks to Valentin for teaching that went far beyond the scope of the task at hand!