The Importance of a South Georgia BFF

Well, now, what would you make with a rusted tin can from a desert coulee near the Columbia River, the Christmas 1931 issue of The Household Magazine, addressed to Magnolia Windham of Fort Valley, Georgia (a gift to me from my dearest friend, Gray, who totally "gets" me), and a spiffy pair of red celluloid shoe buttons (these also turned up in a big jar of old buttons Gray gave me; I told you, she "gets" me)?  Earrings, that's what.  With extra-long gold filled wires and cartoons of pretty little girls modeling the latest fashions.  Sweet and edgy, and long enough almost to tickle your shoulders.  This is something worthy, good looking and steeped in the value acquired by lasting well past its heyday, an ordinary thing that has become a treasure.   Really, there is no such thing as "ordinary" -- it's only an illusion.  Things all around us are extraordinary, every day.

Or you could collage faces from a romantic turn-of-the-century print of Cupid and Psyche, with more rusty tin can and freshwater pearls and binding wire.

Does anyone out there remember the Benday dot?  When you look closely at these old images, you will see they are composed of many very small dots, which is how printers got half tones -- gray.

For my beloved friend Gray, who knows we are still a couple of ya-yas and if we were in the same classroom the teacher would make us sit on opposite sides of the room.  And I promise I won't make you eat anything with peaches in it, ever.

A little day hike in January

The morning view from my studio seemed to promise a rain-free day, which is rare this time of year on the west side of the Cascades.  A good day for a hike on Tiger Mountain, even though we won't see snow. The El Nino weather phenomenon has caused the warmest January on record.  It kind of put a crimp in the snow shoe opportunities around here.

Still, the filtered sunlight on ferns and mosses in springlike weather is magical. On a weekday the trail is quiet and secret.  The air is clean and sweet and seems to glow like stained glass in scattered sunlight.  Everywhere there are beautiful things to see, close and distant.  And even if it hasn't been a good year for snow shoe trips or ice climbing, it has been a year for beautiful ferns, mosses and fungi.

These are polyphores growing on a mossy alder log.  A beauty all its own.

Collage Icon

This small collage on a 4x5 ready-made canvas sat around my workroom for such a long time, feeling not quite done.

It began with a haunting face from Wisconsin Death Trip, by Michael Lesy, a wonderful book that continues to inspire.

She's the beautiful daughter of an exopthalmic family I sketched in charcoal from an antique photograph.

The other day I realized she is iconic, so I treated her that way, adding a frame of antique blue tatting (by Mrs. Hogdahl), a carved bone earring from the past, and two old grey mother of pearl buttons, collaged with eyes you may recognize --  I wont tell who, you have to guess.  Behind the rose is a dried fungus from a recent woodland hike with the words "the quick eyes of a lover" collaged onto it, backed by tea stained crocheted lace.  And the sides feature really old (at least early 20th c. possibly older) beaded soutache.  Now I am happy with the piece, so off she goes to Etsy.

The remaining collaged parts, which you can't see here, are pages from a book from the 1800s back even before newsprint was in use and things were printed using metal type.  It is a demented moral tale, entitled Blue Stocking Hall, written as both a romance and a lesson to young ladies of the inevitable dangers of overeducation and too much poetry.  I really didn't mind tearing it up, although it is a true period piece.  Just the thing that would have caused the haunted look in this young woman's eyes.  Too much poetry, feh!

A Make-Do Heart, La Coeur d'Bricoleuse

Pardon my French, but you get the idea, a battered heart held together with binding wire, a pendant with missing stones, an 1800s era gilded shoe button, a 1920s era brass chain, et voila, something for Valentine's Day that says it all.  Our hearts may lose their shine, their untrammeled contours; they get pushed around, but a repaired heart presents a grander story than an unblemished one.  Here's to mended hearts and courage.  (Coeur-age.)

Tyger Tangent

It's soon to be the year of the Tiger, which has me remembering Blake -- "Tyger, Tyger burning bright in the forest of the night, what immortal hand or eye could frame thy fearful symmetry?"  In Asia, the tiger remains deep in the consciousness of the people as a symbol of prowress, protection and nobility.  Most Chinese homes have a tiger in them somewhere, to protect them, especially mothers-to-be.  Remembering this, I am off on a Tyger Tangent, and have made a neckpiece to celebrate this new year that will bring great, positive change, especially lucky for the Horse, which is me.

It fell together from things on hand (synchronicity) in a nice way that tells me it's auspicious to celebrate the tiger -- a cancelled postage stamp from India veiled with a skeletonized leaf and iridescent powders, set in a frame cobbled from a piece of a tin can and covered with natural mica; trimmed with a cloisonne bead; collaged with hand marbeled paper and bits of an old kanji-script herbal and hanging from three strands of vintage bugle beads.  It's good to have a tiger close by for the new year.

Recycled Sari Silk, Neo Renaissance Jewels

Wonderful, brilliant colors, and recycled, too -- A women's collective in Nepal recycles silk saris into delightfully frayed ribbons, and they are great for suspending my "neo-Rennaisance jewels" --

Here's one that is completely faux and still gorgeous -- iron wire, glass jewel, costume pearls, a Swarovski crystal drop, beneath a froth of magenta and blue frayed silk stripes.  It closes at the back with a hand made hook and chain and counterweight bead.

And another, with a Raj feeling -- a resin filled rusty bottle cap with a pith helmeted portrait, surmounted with vintage Swarovski rose monte, iron wire scrollwork with gold glass beads lashed on, an antique button, and another crystal drop.

All that's missing is the ballgown, train and dancecard (tasseled, of course).

Beady-eyed Wild Strangers Call at My Door

Ah, the holidays when friends and strangers drop in from all over.  Check this pair out who have learned to beg at the back door.  Too charming for our own (or theirs) good.  They have learned to eat cat food and pose in the door just like the cat and be wistful, outside looking in.

Beware, they are a danger to your pets, and don't encourage their visits (alas) by leaving the food out.  Sooo tempting and way cunning, very hard to resist, but resist we must.  They are omnivorous and opportunistic and can become dangerous.