In the cleft of the rock.

[sterling silver, geode slice, jade and 23 karat gold]

[sterling silver & geode slice]

Aren’t these beautiful?  I don’t mean that in a self-promoting way.  I just mean, when I look at these necklaces, I feel like I’m looking at beauty.  Unfettered, natural, raw beauty.  Like when I wake up  on some mornings and my lips are the perfect color (plump with sleep), my hair is gently waving, my eyes are dark and glimmering, I don’t need make up and I don’t notice what clothing I put on — I just step out of bed pretty, pink, feminine and beautiful.  I’m raw.  I’m real.  I’m me.  I guess that’s what I see in these necklaces.  I love that they lack a narrative, outside of the regular stuff behind the Lichen Series I’ve been working on (for months now — I can’t get away).  The beauty of them is free-standing.  The work alone is enough.  I want more of that.


I feel like I’m traveling one thousand rivers, all at once.  The currents are zany, unpredictable, lemon scented.  The eddies are trout bearing  I am master and commander of my tiny ship.  Eventually I go to the sea.  As all things do.


Here, at the little cabin in the woods, I am in the cleft of the rock.  There’s a holding and freeness that bears a sort of forgiveness, or grace, with every sigh the fir trees let out in the swoop of the wind.  The light strains like violas in the early morning, cresting up through the gap, prickling night and setting the ponderosas alight.  I see directly East from the loft window which is broad in scope.  I watch each day descend into bright, every morning, from my little perch.  I am so glad to surrender to being here, in this lovely place, in my very self.  I often wonder what else there is to be, outside of gentleness to self and others.  I have consumed seven cups of tea today.  The mornings bring a chill.


I don’t ever want to miss anything but there are distances I cannot cover with the thin spread of myself.  I suppose part of life is simply figuring out where to be and at what time.


Did I mention RW is coming home tonight?  I can’t even really convey how glad it makes me.  He’ll be here, with me at the cabin, for at least one night.  A friend and I are making a taco feast and pitchers of margaritas for all the boys, over at the base mess hall, upon their return.  There’s going to be laughing and stories.  I’m looking forward to it.

[Because the Methow makes music in the key of blue:  sterling, aquamarine, Arizona turquoise, Bainbridge Island beach glass & lapis lazuli.]

[Because what is more Methow than: sterling,blue, deer & a Methow River rock with the most delicate little black vein?]

I had such a wildly beautiful epiphany while working in the studio today.  I recently told a friend about a silly little fear I have and her response was, quite simply, “Do not be afraid.”  It was such a straightforward response it nearly shocked my boots off.  Let me tell you what I realized!  A good friend does not encourage, nourish or foster your insecurities and fears.  A good friend tears those nasty weeds up by the roots and with a most fractious spirit, she casts them into a burning barrel, pours kerosene all over them and drops a lit match on the mess.  Then she stands there beside you and makes you watch that awful crap* burn away into ash, wind and nothingness.  That’s what a good friend does.  I just thought I’d tell you.  Consider yourself informed.


I had a transportative experience while working.  I was playing Hey Rosetta! on the stereo and was suddenly, mind out of body, spirit out of physicality, transported!  It was the craziest thing.  I grabbed my journal and scribbled the experience down:

I am in the studio listening to Hey Rosetta! while I work and I am suddenly transported to Red Hill in Pocatello — it is winter.  I am running the ridge, an exposed space, the wind is a banshee.  I am listening to music as I run.  The earbuds I’ve stuffed in my ears help dissolve the screech of air that funnels down valley.  It’s tyrannical with its claws and biting teeth.  It makes my ears ache.  My lips are numb.  It is snowing and my shirt is plastered with white.  My face is wet.  The wet is slowly crystalizing.  Later I’ll cross up and over the train yard and look South to Scout Mountain, the peak will be dressed pure as a bride in glancing white.”


It was just a daydream, but at times, my daydreams can come on so fast and strong that I am displaced in the withins of myself and when I come back to the here and now I feel lonesome for the space my imagination took me.  And gosh, am I ever craving a winter run now.

Do you daydream?

What do you daydream about?

*Sorry for writing “crap” — that was rather common of me.  No other word would do.


It’s old, but it’s still so good.

Babes In The Woods

[sterling & green tourmaline]

[sterling & Kingman Arizona turquoise]

Just a couple of things I’ve been working on — made for woodswomen, or women who like the idea of being in the woods.  They’re in the shop now!

[sterling, Arizona turquoise, chrysoprase]

Sometimes I get crazy in love with the interior West and then I make a bunch of jewelry that features various ungulates and turquoise.  These little ditties will be in the shop tomorrow morning I mean AFTERNOON!  Sorry for the delay.  I have to run an errand in town.