The Magpie's Treasure

Making Art is About Making Connections

The holiday season is a busy time of year for most folks--especially artists who participate in holiday art markets. I usually sell my work in shops or online, but in the Autumn I like to add a few holiday markets to my calendar. They are great opportunities, not just to make sales, but to meet my customers face to face--hear what they like about my work or what they would like to see added to my collection. The events also give me a chance to meet other artists--admire their work and hear their insights about living and breathing the creative life. I often come home with notes-to-myself on scraps of paper that help me remember things I want to try next year or when I get back into my studio.

The down side of holiday art markets is that in order to have enough items on hand to fill my booth, I have to switch into production mode. And recreating finished designs can feel tedious. I miss the feeling of surprise and achievement that comes when a new pendant or necklace is finally complete. This year is no different, and I've been procrastinating about making pieces for my booth. 

Lucky for me I have very smart friends to help keep me focused and motivated. Right now, it's CarolynArtist's words that are fueling my fire. She recently wrote about the meaning behind creating art, and I had to print it out and tape her words to the wall above my workbench. She wrote:

As I turn on my soldering iron and cue up the audiobook-of-the-day, I'm thinking about what Carolyn said. Her words very succinctly sum up what truly is the heart of why I do what I do, and remind me why I need to get to work making jewelry to share at this year's art events. 

For everything there is a season... 

So when I'm designing new pieces, it is the season to lose myself in taking random beads, metal, or maybe just a fantastic quote and finding ways to connect them to create an appealing design. And when it's time to make more of those finished designs, it is the season to lose myself in the pleasure of using the tools and techniques--watching the glass breaking perfectly where I've scored it and the solder flowing smoothly around the edges of the glass. After all--it has taken A LOT of practice to do these things well, and there were times when they were not relaxing to do at all. Production time is also the season to enjoy perfecting each piece--no longer looking at them with "honeymoon eyes" I can take the time to revisit the designs and see what can be improved. 

 

No matter what season it is, when I'm making jewelry I'm always hoping that each carefully designed piece will find a home with someone who will think it is as beautiful as I do and enjoy wearing it.

Making art IS about making connections--the connections between artist and new materials, artist and tools & techniques, and artist and buyer. These connections are what keep this artist's heart in her work, and so does the camaraderie of other talented and wise artists. Thanks for the powerful words, Carolyn. You're one smart cookie!

The Magpie's Travels: A Weekend in the Big City

Last Friday, I left The Magpie's studio and set out on a grand adventure--a weekend in New York City. The weatherman predicted rain all day Saturday and Sunday, so I packed my umbrella, warm sweaters, and mittens for the occasion. Meanwhile, my husband packed a Yankees baseball cap, 2 tickets to Saturday night's game, and a rain coat. -- I had agreed to join him at the game, if we could spend the rest of the weekend exploring the city. It was not hard to convince him that we needed this adventure.

On my list of things to see were Greenwich Village, indie bookstores, and some uber-cozy restaurants. I soon found that the weather was as dreary as they'd expected it to be, but instead of putting a damper on things, it made the trip all the more romantic--because we spent lots of time squeezing close together to fit beneath our single umbrella!

 

Travel frequently presents surprises, and the first surprise of this trip became apparent the moment we entered our hotel. I'm used to seeing a huge floral arrangement in the lobby--instead there were wedding gowns everywhere. 

It turns out that the Wedding Channel Couture Show was taking place right there in our hotel. How cool is that?! Every time we came in or went out of the hotel, I had to stop to admire the satin and feathers. 

I don't EVER want to be responsible for planning another wedding--but I have to admit--the display made me wish I had an occasion when I could wear one of those super fancy gowns!

Saturday was Game Day. We headed to the Bronx--home of the brand new Yankee Stadium. The sun was already down when we arrived, and it was getting colder and more windy by the minute. 

The game turned into a 12 inning, nail biter that didn't end until 1 AM. Fortunately, the vendors kept coming by with steaming cups of hot chocolate--not the kind of fare you'd expect to have at a baseball game--but absolutely perfect for that night. We watched all 12 innings, then rode the Subway back to Grand Central Station and walked to our hotel.

The next morning, when the alarm clock went off--we were NOT bright eyed and bushy tailed. Some how we made our way down to the street and hailed a taxi to take us to brunch at Cafe Cluny (W 4th St. in the Village)...

(Photo courtesy of Cafe Cluny)

And within an hour, we were savoring buttery french toast with wild berries in an intimate dinning room, where tables were wedged close together and waiters whirled by with french presses full of rich coffee. I felt myself reviving as threads of conversation wafted by. It was a great spot to people watch and melt into the hum of the crowd.

Afterward--on full stomachs, we set out to find the indie bookstores on our list. At 266 Bleecker Street, we found Bookbook--the new incarnation of Biography Book Shop. As the front door closed behind us, we heard two shop clerks discussing novels that were beautiful yet completely depressing. They began talking about Under the Volcano by Malcom Lowry as I headed toward the poetry section. I was hoping to find some books of haiku, however, I picked up a tiny collection of letters written by Rainer Maria Rilke instead. It was full of his advice on writing. And I love books like that--where authors and artists share their approach to their craft--because more often than not they actually end up revealing how they live life. I'm always hoping to find gems of advice that I can scribble on Post-It's for myself. (You can read all of the letters online here.)

After we paid at Bookbook, we crossed the street and walked a few doors down to Rocco's Pastry Shop & Espresso Bar. The shop clerk there placed a handful of Saviada in a white box for me. These are a childhood favorite of mine--they're white, airy inside with a thin crisp outside, and sweet with amaretto--perfect with a huge glass of milk! My husband added his favorites to the box--a black & white cookie and some tri-colors. The clerk expertly tied the box using traditional red and white bakery string. And we left with big smiles on our faces, promising each other that we'd save our stash as bedtime treats back in our room.

Our next stop was another bookshop--Books of Wonder at 18 W 18th Street. This is a great place for kids and for adults like us who love children's books. Not only are the shelves full of fantastic literature and imaginatively illustrated stories, but stacks of the books have been signed by their authors. I snatched up several signed copies by Newberry Award winner Kate DiCamillo (author of Because of Winn Dixie, The Tale of Despereaux, and The Tiger Rising). Meanwhile my husband found some "manly" picture books to add to our collection, including Old Penn Station and Sky Boys: How They Built the Empire State Building.

In addition to great books, Books of Wonder is also home to The Cupcake Cafe. This is where little readers and their parents can discuss storybooks over hot chocolate and fancifully decorated cupcakes. Nearly every table in the cafe was occupied. It was fun to see moms & dad's enjoying books with their kids and having so much fun on such a gloomy day.

Well, a visit to NYC would not be complete if I didn't get to see some handcrafted jewelry... 

(Photo courtesy of Innasense)

...So I was very excited when we strolled passed Innasense--a compact jewel-box of a place with wood floors and plush red walls. They feature large stones in their jewelry--facetted gems and colorful semi-precious stones. The shopkeeper explained that the spiritual or mystical aspects of the stones are important to them. For instance, one ring that intrigued me contained a spiral seashell from Africa that was set inside a domed silver disc with a squiggly symbol pierced around its outer edges. The woman said that the symbol was a rune that represents harmony and being grounded. Unfortunately, the ring didn't come home with me...  But it was a beautiful piece of art and I appreciated learning about it and seeing how other jewelry designers approach their work.

At 3 PM-ish we left the jewelry shop. It was too late for lunch, but too early for dinner, so we walked a few blocks until we found The Crooked Knife--a softly-lit restaurant decorated with country antiques. Out front there was a handwritten board that highlighted the daily special-- "Butternut Squash Soup." One of my favorites! We quickly shuffled inside.

As we spooned the earthy soup to our lips, my husband used his iPhone to search the Zagat Web site for romantic dinner spots. The Place, a restaurant on 4th Street in the Village, emerged as our pick. It was a slightly underground cafe/bistro that reviewers said was so romantic that "if you can't sweep your date off his/her feet here then you are hopeless." Just what we were looking for!

We made a bee-line to our hotel, changed into "good clothes," and hailed a cab to take us to The Place (located just a door or two away from  Cafe Cluny, where we started the day.) 

We were the first patrons to arrive for dinner. Candles and a fireplace flickered against the river rock-lined walls and wooden-beamed ceiling. After a long day of walking in the frigid city air, it felt so good to sit still by the fire and have some quiet time together. We started the evening off-- clinking glasses full of ruby-red wine to toast New York City and the Yankees. And we ended our date--dipping spoons into warm pumpkin bread pudding with carmel sauce. Um, um, good--night! Zzzz  z zz  z z z!

(Photo courtesy of The Place)

* * * * * * * * *

It was a long and full weekend. As I write this, I am riding in a train heading back to DC. I'm still a bit sleepy, but can't wait to get back to my studio. I am eager to finish up some projects that I started last week--so I can show you what I've been up to! And, I also have to whip up some new jewelry for an exhibit that I'll be participating in next month. (I've gotta get a move on with that project before I switch into panic mode!)

Well, I hope you have a great week. And if you haven't visited NYC lately, it's time to go. It's a great place to visit--rain or shine!

~JF

Amelia Was Here--Her Jewelry Tells Her Story

Did you read yesterday's post by Rosy Revolver (RR)? She shared a beautiful and thought-provoking magazine article that talked about the connections a grandmother's jewelry can allow her granddaughter to make with her after she is gone from this world.

 

After reading the article in RR's post, thoughts about my own grandmothers kept flooding my mind. I was very, very blessed to have grown up with both of them in my life. In fact, my passion for jewelry began because I was the happy recipient of the broken bits of their oh-so-sparkly costume jewelry. My childhood collection--a twisted tangle of pearls, rhinestones, and crystals--looked something like what you'd see inside a magpie or bower bird's nest. ---And THAT's where I got the name The Magpie's Treasure. (Did YOU know that?)

While I was able to enjoy my grandmothers's jewelry when they were both alive, out in hazy shadows of memory is my great-grandmother Amelia--my mom's mom's mom. I hadn't even seen a picture of Amelia until last year, but somehow I was the great-grandchild chosen to receive her engagement ring.

The ring has a diamond in a simple setting that might be white gold or sterling silver. The setting lets in very little light so the stone is sparkless. When I first got it, I was thrilled and completely honored to have something--anything--that was once Amelia's. At the same time--I'm ashamed to admit--I thought it was dull and lackluster. Being a magpie, I love jewelry that glitters and decided to put the non-sparkling ring away for safe keeping. And even worse--I never wore it. That changed today.

This morning I woke up with the magazine article still on my mind and a burning desire to let sunlight shine on Amelia's ring. 

Her story was short and sad--she died as a young wife & mother in the late-1920's or early-1930's. She contracted tuberculosis in Brooklyn and left two small daughters to be raised by my great-grandfather and by nuns in an orphanage. Neither my grandma or my mom really knew Amelia or had stories to tell me about her. And Pop-pop was a man of few words. So she slowly faded.

 As I wore her ring today I thought, it wasn't fair that she didn't get to see her daughters grow-up and that she didn't get to live a full life with Pop-pop. And even more importantly, it wasn't fair that her story has been lost. That SHE has nearly been lost.

As I did my errands, I thought about Amelia more than I have in my entire life. I did recall one story about her--that when she was dying, she packed a trunk of precious gifts for her two girls. She labeled things such as stacks of her own china with tags that read "For Catherine" and boxes of silverware with tags "For Pauline." I can't imagine what she must have gone through packing that box and planning to leave them behind. Even so, that trunk remained unopened by her two girls until my own mom was old enough to get married, and forced them to open the gifts their mother had given them. I felt a twinge, realizing the story mirrored my own neglect of her ring...

Then I began to wonder about happier times--things my imagination could run with. What was it like when Pop-pop proposed to her? Did he bend on one knee and slide it onto her thin fingers? Where were they when it happened? Did joy fill her heart? Did her parents approve? Did she have sisters or brothers who stood by her side at the altar? What was her first home like? Did she enjoy being a wife and mother? Did she have hobbies and what were her unique talents? What was it like when she had her babies--was she scared? Did her own mother help her out? Did she and Pop-pop both fall in love with the girls at first sight? Did she enjoy tucking them in each night? Did she have favorite stories to tell them? Did she have close girl friends to confide in? Did she like to cook like I do? Did she like to read? And on and on... 

Who was Amelia?

So many questions that can never be answered, but there are some things I know for sure--Amelia was here, Amelia was loved, and Amelia gave her love to the end. 

This is the power our jewelry can have--one small piece can tell the most important part of our story. Remember this as you gather jewelry for yourself. If you have special pieces of jewelry, why not put a note in your jewelry box with it--explaining where it came from and what it means to you. You never know whose questions you may be answering or whose heart may open up to you even after you are long gone.

Many thanks to Rosy Revolver for sharing the wonderful article! And thank you Amelia for your ring and your love...