The 4th of July, (a re-post of something from last year that you may have missed.)

Chicago circa 1940's

     I think of this little girl every fourth since I found her picture almost 6 years ago. This, aside from family photographs of course, is my most prized and adored photograph. I have made up a thousand stories in my mind about her and a thousand questions....where was she?what was her little name?who decorated the buggy?did she tie her own boots? Did she have a good life? Somehow, does she know what she means to me?Though I know she has most likely left this world already....somehow does she know that I send love to her every time I see her face?
I'd like to think so. It gives me peace to think so.
I don't think I could manage this life if I lived it believing there was nothing more after this world...that this was all there is...that there was nothing divine about our humanness...
      Somehow this has me thinking about my father and how I hear his voice speak to me often since I learned of his death. In the small and quiet places when I can talk to him out loud, he answers me. Is he really speaking to me, or is it just a way to cope with his loss? to cope with the profound loss of the hope for reparation that came with his passing from me? Does it really matter?
My thought is, that as long as love and gratitude and wonder take the place of hate and despair and hopelessness, then the world is better....humanity is better....and healing takes place. And that is what works. It is those things that make a difference. It has nothing to do with religious rites or "moralists" or the people out there trying so adamantly to prove that no God exists. I think it is about loving the questions and regarding the mystery with wonder.
      This little girl, the one in this photograph, does she know how she's changed the world? By posing for a photograph on a hot July day so long ago. Simply standing there in her boots and in her innocence...she has changed the whole world. And she knows it because I tell her, and she hears me...and because I am here to tell her story with love and gratitude and wonder.

Do you have a favorite photograph? If so, can you share a bit about it with us? It is very easy to comment. No need for an account. Just use the "anonymous" feature.

Love and Light,
Jennifer

For Lucy, an Assemblage Necklace from Narnia

Dearest Lucy,

I made this for you today...I was twelve, I remember, when I read about you for the first time. So you must be in your late forties by now... I remember holding my breath as you tuned the handle to reveal the wondrous winter landscape that reflected with the surprise in your eyes. I was laying on my stomach in the grass in the Saturday sunshine in an adjacent empty field, and I looked up for a moment while Kelly Rae rode her bike clumsily past me down the street. Funny how we remember such brief moments so clearly isn't it?...but as Pavese said, "We do not remember days, we remember moments." So true.
Well, I have always loved reading, and The Chronicles was the first series that I ever read. The paperback pages were creased and yellowed from age, and I don't even remember where those books came from, but they were so new to me. As new to me as you were...so trusting and wide eyed.
Memories of the childlike wonder of your story came back to me this past sunny Saturday as I carefully chose each shabby vintage glass bead and sparkling old crystal for this simple necklace that echoes the beauty of the winter forest of Narnia that day; and somehow the juxtaposition of the two seems such an accurate reflection of my life as well... I know it seems like just a necklace, but it is the way I communicate these days...it is my voice ...without using words. I am so grateful for the gift of it, this being able to take what was once lost and forgotten and making it anew, but I sometimes wish it had come much sooner to me. It would have given me something to do on those nights while all of the children were asleep and I wandered the house at 2 a.m., looking for something to keep me sane in the stillness and the restlessness of my mid-twenties...
Lucy I have kept your spirit alive inside of me all of these years. You were trusting and young and true and brave. I'm feeling the need for you now, more than ever. This body of mine is broken and at times, I find that it breaks my spirit...
Accept this simple token of my affection and gratitude for coming to me in my gangly girlhood and staying with me for so long. Please stay longer Lucy, and help me to remember to always be wonder-full.


Love Always,
Jennifer

Plain Brown Wrapper

I only have the picture in my mind. I didn't know I'd have this encounter....
The other day my husband and I went to the cemetery for a visit, which was bordering a pasture......we saw the horses from the highway.
I noticed the large and simple brown horse in the pasture next to where I was standing and walked over to get a closer look...what happened next was so magical, I don't think I'll forget it. Not for a long time.
He saw me and began to gallop, not trot or walk, but gallop toward me. I used to care for horses years ago near Seattle, and I could feel the velvet of his ears and the smell of his neck before he ever got to where I was. When he got to me at the edge of the forest brush and barbwire fence, he stood there within arms reach, flicking his haunches to ward off the pesky flies; like he was waiting for something...I reached over the spiked fence to touch the softness of his neck with my finger tips. I spoke to him of his majesty and beauty and thanked him for coming to me; and we stood there together for the longest time. He was so plain, just brown and nothing else, yet so incredibly beautiful. Brown was all he needed.

I see that in so many people...the beauty in the plainness. I see it a lot here in this very unglamorous small town. Makeup-less faces and pony tails and tanned faces worn by hardness and years under the sun. Weathered hands roughened by farming and fixing things...there is beauty there in the plainness. the roughness. the weathered lines....The plain brown wrapper of life. This beautiful, beautiful, unpredictable life....

Crystal Springs and Dreams of the Sea, assemblage necklaces and Stories of Water and Wonder

When I was a girl, I went to Crystal Springs, Florida with my family...and rode in a glass bottomed boat. I will never forget seeing the fish swimming under the boat as we cruised along....the water, was so clear that you could see the bottom from where you sat in the boat...we gathered around a window to the springs....a window to the summer of my youth. I remember being a little scared, but feeling the comfort of family enough to bravely drape my little sun-kissed hand over the side of the boat and let my fingers trail in the coolness of the spring water....Yes, this necklace is about coolness and clarity, and summer and family, and the beauty and silent wonder of water.
You can see more of it here.

Then, there are Dreams of the Sea... several years ago when I could still feel the gentle rush of the ocean over my toes, and the crush of tiny shells beneath my feet; I fed the seagulls on the Jacksonville shore with my mother. It is my absolute fondest memory to date...our hearty laughter mixed into with the whipping ocean winds and the cries of a huge flock of gulls overhead. They were so close we could look into their eyes, and they were riding on the wind...somehow they remained stationary above us, and all vying for the perfect spot to catch the next morsel. Some were brave enough to eat right from our outstretched hands. I remember the feel of a rough beak grasping the tips my fingers for a moist crust of bread, and the boisterous laughter and  the wonder in my mother's bright eyes when she looked at me... In that moment, it was only she and I and the ocean and everything else between us dropped away; lost to time... lost to the sea.

You can see more of this necklace here.

Tears for the Bookbinder's Son, an antique assemblage

It has been quite some time since I've created an assemblage. I have been focusing my energies on creating "functional" artwork and jewelry. I think this is actually the first though, that I have had a specific feeling behind the creating of it...I guess maybe more an emotion...or quite simply; grief.
This piece is about my father, as a way of expressing some of the emotions I've experienced since his death. Looking through old journal pages the other day, I came across pages from a time many years ago, in which I struggled with debilitating depression. I often had days in which I simply needed to list "what was good"...as if seeing it in writing made it somehow more real. It helped to keep more focused on what was important and what was, in fact good. Going over my list, I came upon an entry that stole my breath and made me choke on the sobs that wanted to escape from my throat. Just one line in my short list that day, of what was good:
"Hearing my father's laughter."
I have good days that string together one to another to another, when I think the worst of it is over....and then there are those days when my heart feels as if a heavy stone is tied tightly to it and the tears leak from behind my eyes no matter how I try to stay out of the shadows of grief and focus on the light.

p.s.(I took these shots without a tripod, by the way, thus creating the not so crisp pictures...I have since ordered a little tripod.)

An Early Morning Rain

Today there was an early morning rain. My little son came running in to me excitedly to let me know...he had gotten up before me and raided the freezer for some Ben and Jerry's Cinnamon Bun ice cream for breakfast. (he knows better, but I was asleep so it was fair game)
When I asked him if he'd like to go out in it, his eyes lit up and we proceeded to go through my beconning and messy studio to the back door and he excitedly ran out into the heavy downpour. Dancing and laughing and playing like a five year old would. Then he asked me to join him....at first I said no because I was still in my pajamas. But then I remembered, this life is the only one I have. As I remembered from Simple Abundance, this is no dress rehearsal. This is it. This one life. And  so I ran out into the warm summer rain in my black faux satin Walmart special p.j.'s and I stood there under the sky and I felt so connected to the earth and to God at the same time as the rain pelted my body. In that moment, I remembered again, that this joy....this kind of high, can be attained every. single. day. It is all about living in the moment. It is all about mindfulness. It is all about realizing what really matters in this life; and it isn't about what the neighbors will think of me out in the rain in my pajamas. We all know what it is, but if you are anything like me, you get lost sometimes....and you need a good rain to wash away the dust of day to day living; the film of weariness that sometimes covers us...we get jaded and we loose hope. But know this; you are not alone in this world.
I need to hear that every now and then. I just need to hear it, I need to read it I need to feel it I need to breathe it.
Today, I felt it in the rain. I felt the splendor that this world can hold in a single raindrop. The wonder of life and the joy that comes with just being.
If I could bottle it somehow and give it away....that kind of simple joy that I felt today...well, this is as close as I can get...this blog is a message in a bottle, of sorts.
My message to you (and to myself) would be simple. My message would be:

The 4th of July

I think of this little girl every fourth since I found her picture almost 6 years ago. This, aside from family photographs of course, is my most prized and adored photograph. I have made up a thousand stories in my mind about her and a thousand questions....where was she?what was her little name?who decorated the buggy?did she tie her own boots? Did she have a good life? Somehow, does she know what she means to me?Though I know she has most likely left this world already....somehow does she know that I send love to her every time I see her face?
I'd like to think so. It gives me peace to think so.
I don't think I could manage this life if I lived it believing there was nothing more after this world...that this was all there is...that there was nothing divine about our humanness...

Somehow this has me thinking about my father and how I hear his voice speak to me often since I learned of his death. In the small and quiet places when I can talk to him out loud, he answers me. Is he really speaking to me, or is it just a way to cope with his loss? to cope with the profound loss of the hope for reparation that came with his passing from me? Does it really matter?
My thought is, that as long as love and gratitude and wonder take the place of hate and despair and hopelessness, then the world is better....humanity is better....and healing takes place. And that is what works. It is those things that make a difference. It has nothing to do with religious rites or "moralists" or the people out there trying so adamantly to prove that no God exists. I think it is about loving the questions and regarding the mystery with wonder.
This little girl, the one in this photograph, does she know how she's changed the world? By posing for a photograph on a hot July day so long ago. Simply standing there in her boots and in her innocence...she has changed the whole world. And she knows it because I tell her, and she hears me...and because I am here to tell her story with love and gratitude and wonder.

A Map of the Sea, a vintage assemblage necklace

This is a new style for me, but it has been in my mind for a long time....the desire to create necklaces from colorful polished chunks of the earth (this necklace, exquisite Peruvian opals) and vintage glass...now finally out of my mind and into a Map of the Sea...this necklace reminds me so much of the colors in my favorite vintage maps. Believe it or not, it is the ocean part of the maps that appeals to me the most...and the beautiful Gulf Coast, Indian ocean and Pacific Ocean call to me...beckoning me to the mast of a little blue sailing ship with the wind in my hair and the smell of the fresh ocean water on my skin...sprays from the wake of the bow misting my ankles...yes, this evokes such things.....
..and while I am out on the sea, the leaf reminds me that home is waiting, when you are ready to return.
This necklace is for sale in my Etsy shop here.

Dear Baby Lamoreux

When your mama asked me to make a special necklace for you, I didn't know what to say. I was so honored...and I thought of you the whole time I worked on it. Your mama wanted something that would make a little noise that you could hear when she moved...I looked for just the right thing, and settled on a little key. Not just any key, but the key to a mysterious jewelry box, long forgotten...I thought it fitting because you are such a jewel. Sounds corny, I know....
Then I thought of the locket and how your momma talks of her grandmother's flowers and how much she misses her...and how I can relate because, though I am still blessed with my grandmother in my life, my love for her is so great that my heart went out to your mother and her deep loss and grief. I know your mama will think of your tiny hand in your grandmother's, and how she wishes she could see you...and I will tell your mama that she can see you...that she will find her grandmother in your little eyes and in your first little smile. And she will hear her grandmother in her own voice as she speaks to you in whispers in the hours before dawn.
Baby Lamoreux, you don't know this quite yet, but you have amazing parents. I don't know much about your father, but I know he has such a kind and gentle face....and the way he looks at your mama when she takes his picture says so much about how he feels for her....
and your mama, she is so amazing....so talented....so spiritual....and so beautiful inside, that she radiates joy and peace to everyone she touches.....and she touched me.
I read her story, as she told it, when life was very lonely and difficult for me. Your mama has no idea the impact she had on my life, not to mention the lives of so many others. She is so very special, and you are so blessed to be inside of her right now....as she breathes in and breathes out and smiles at the thought of you there in her belly, so tiny.
Yes, all this and more as I made a simple necklace...but I made it with such love...in hopes that you will feel it as you grow...and I hope your mama can feel it too.
xoxo
Jennifer