Showing posts with label jewelry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jewelry. Show all posts

Friday, November 2, 2012

the little unnecessities of life are not inconsequential

This past weekend, I flew to Kansas to attend a cousin's wedding. I hadn't seen most of my Kansas cousins--my dad's twin brothers, their wives and kids--for 30 years. Why? There's really no good reason, and now I wish I'd visited more. My family lived in Tennessee and took driving vacations each summer, spending a week or so in Kansas, and at least once, our Kansas relatives visited us in Tennessee.

I don't know if it's because time moves so slowly when you're a kid, or if it was just the experiences we shared over so many summers together, but Kansas and summers spent with my cousins comprise a profound and beloved part of my childhood. It was great to go back and see them all. Before the wedding, some of us took in a musical and stayed in a Victorian B&B in Abilene. There were vintage hats in the Victorian parlor. We went antiquing the next day. I found a few things.

pince nez specs with a hairpin...for years, I thought it was "prince" nez



HelloGiggles: Item of the Day

Alessandra Rizzotti just wrote up Millennium General Assembly for HelloGiggles.com. I am psyched!

Monday, May 21, 2012

on ivory, feathers and animal bits as ornamentation


"The Bull Leaper" 15th-century ivory figurine from the palace of Knossos, Crete

I worry about offending people, which is the reason I hesitate to use anything that even looks like old ivory. I mean, really, to say that it's pre-ban ivory doesn't make it okay; an elephant killed for its pieces is still a murdered elephant. Unless you've been desecrating an elephant graveyard or finding the actual skeleton itself. I guess if I'm walking the savannah and trip over a tusk, I could use that tusk without guilt.

I've sometimes questioned the acceptability of using of items depicting circus elephants. I don't think most captive, trained animals are happy.

And what about bones? Are they okay? I purchased some old ivory piano keys, intending to try my hand at scrimshaw.

Also, I'm reluctant to incorporate feathers in my pieces. Where are they coming from? I did find an already road-killed pheasant on a trip a couple of years ago, so I can use its feathers without guilt.

Sunday, May 20, 2012

general assemblages and musings on the ins and outs of tin

On my to-make list are a birdcage veil for my friend's wedding and a fancy hat for me; a belt for Mike's birthday; an unfinished mixed-media piece that includes tuning pegs and violin strings, as well as dovetail joints, encaustic wax, ephemera, brass findings, machine plaques, collage blocks and whatever else I decide to throw into that recipe; and jewelries incorporating tin elements.

I love the look of old tin, deconstructed and riveted and layered and waxed. I'm just trying to figure out how to do it. What keeps the paint from all flaking off when you manipulate the metal? Should you never soak a tin container to clean out its contents...like the beautiful Camphor Ice tin I bought then soaked to get the remaining camphor wax out of it, only to wreck most of it by making the design all cloudy and peeling?

How does one rivet? Do I have enough tools, the right tools? The aviation metal shears I just got may be too large for anything except breaking down the tins. I've been using tiny scissors--I think they're embroidery scissors--to make the fine cuts. I bought Renaissance wax to "seal" the pieces. I need techniques!

How far do I go in demolishing old tins to make something else out of them. What if I cut up a rare tin that a tin collector has been dying to find for his collection? Are people going to be offended? If I were more gregarious, I would reach out and ask one of the amazing artists who already make fabulous creations with tin, like these:

fofum's chicken badges


adaptive reuse's vesica pieces








































Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Step Right Up! Get Your Amazing Original Jokes Right Here!

This has nothing to do with jewelry. Or maybe it does but I just don't know how right now. I'm really sleepy. Right before I drifted off, this joke popped into my head. I don't know why. I haven't thought about Annette Funicello for years. Mickey Mouse I've thought of as recently as 2008, when I worked for Disney.

I shook Mike awake.

"Wake up! I have to tell you this joke so I don't forget it! It's really good!"

"Mummblemmmblemurrrrrr."

"Okay, get ready. It's really good..."

"mblemurr..."

"What did Mickey Mouse do when Annette Funicello died?"

"..."

"He shed a Mouseke-tear!"

(Well, it's better when told verbally, because then it works on two levels: Mouseke...teer...tear.)




You can purchase Annette Funicello items at Etsy, as well as my stuff.


Thursday, April 15, 2010

Drinking the Stars - necklace - antique vintage assemblage




This unusual pendant, suspended from several vintage brass chains, is an antique belt buckle with the buckle teeth and bar removed. In place of the bar, I engineered a wire holding a fabulous antique black glass star and brass button. The necklace went through several false starts until I felt it was balanced, comfortable and pleasing to the eye.

The chain is 15.5 inches (31-inch circumference). The buckle and button are 3.5 inches. The chain and  button dangle at the back of the neck are 4.25 inches.

I scour garage sales, auctions, stores and my life for antique and vintage components that I use in creating one-of-a-kind pieces.

COMPONENTS
  • fancy antique cut steel and gold vermeil (?) belt buckle
  • 4 superb antique metal buttons
  • Art Nouveau square chain from Hayward tie clip
  • 3 other kinds of brass chain




****

"Invention"  —Barbara Hamby

I am personally indebted to antiquity because if it were left
to me nothing would have been invented. We would still be chasing

boars and clubbing them to death. No, that's too refined.
We'd still be eating grass and grubbing for worms.

How did they think up all that stuff? I'm not talking
about painting or literature. That's easy.

What could be more natural than sitting around a campfire
telling stories and then rhyming to make them easier to remember

or having two or three people take different parts?
Voila, poetry and theatre. I'm talking about bread.

Who thought of grinding wheat and mixing it with mold?
Forget bread. I can't get past wheat. Wheat must have been a weed

once. Who walked up to wheat and thought about growing
a whole field of it, picking it, smashing it together,

adding water, throwing it on a fire? Who were these
proto-chemists, these Neanderthal Marie and Pierre Curies

who harvested the grain?  To leap from throwing rocks at birds
and grilling them on a spit to Safeway is too great for me,

which leads to another subject if one picks up reading material
in supermarkets. Recently I discovered that alien civilizations

do not vacation on Earth anymore because we are too bellicose
and vulgar. Well, whose fault is it anyway? Anyone who thinks

that buffoons such as we could have thought up wheat,
not to mention architecture, axels, armor, artillery

is not taking his Lithium. There would still be about 250 of us
in caves somewhere in France if someone with big silver eyes

hadn't been buzzing around the universe, bored, sentimental,
and decided to stop and help us along. Next thing you know

there's agriculture, horticulture, apiculture. It's the only
logical explanation and if it weren't for the CIA,

everyone would agree with me. However, scientists in Russia,
Argentina, and the north of England (top-notch men,

every one of them) theorize that not only did the Andromedans
show us a few tricks, they also mated with the indigenous

species. Yuck, you might say, if they think we're creepy now,
just imagine what our manners were like ten or twenty thousand

years ago, though come to think of it, I doubt the alien haute
bourgeoisie was patrolling the outer reaches of the universe.

According to a test devised by these scientists, you can tell
if you are descended from extraterrestrials by certain physical

characteristics, such as blond hair, slender fingers,
musical ability (especially singing), big eyes, blue eyes,

which all point to a racially pure colony in Sweden
or Schleswig-Holstein for a few thousand years

and are somewhat reminiscent of our recent troubles in Europe
and Japan. I, for one, would like to toast an inventor:

Tchin, tchin, Dom Perignon, who said when he discovered
champagne, "My God, I am drinking the stars."




YOU CAN BUY MY STUFF ON ETSY