On the Subject of Unfurling

When I woke up this morning the air was so thick I could almost drink it.  Around here, tucked between the salt of the ocean and the heat of the mountains, the fog rolls in thicker than goose down.  When you step outside in the watery first light of day, a delicate tinkling greets your ears as every leaf and needle drips dew.
It's quiet and damp.
There is so much room to breath, to stretch, to sigh.
To be gentle with yourself, no matter what yesterday held.

This morning when I woke I had to remind myself to unfurl once again, to relax the spring-loaded spiral of my heart, to trust that I can be safe and open at the same time.

Unfurl those heart strings, let them curl towards the sky.
With every breath, broaden those fronds.
Take that tight curl, that coiled spring you hold in your chest
Let it open.
Let it open.






(100% Sterling Silver, pressed with the tiniest of ferns, plucked right here on the high Northern California Coast.  In US sizes 5.75, 8, and 9.5)

I am a little fern.
And this wet climate suits my soul.

Sketchbook Writings

~ From my Sketchbook Writings, Thursday September 15th ~

It feels like fall.  Like damp soil and goosebumps on forearms and gray cashmere cardigans.
The leaves are falling.  Falling fat and flaxen but if I squint I can pretent they are snow.
I can not break this stare; is it possible to be hypnotized by a season?  To fall utterly and completely under the control of a force as distance and permeating as the orbital path of the earth?
Perhaps when I wake the shiver of bamboo will leave the taste of late season peaches on my tongue.  No.  My senses are confused.  They've been swirled and whipped up through the vortex of birch leaves and tiny gnats, spinning for one last golden second in the remains of summer.
* * *

Flirting With Yourself
100% Sterling Silver, 100% made of hands and heart.

When I woke up this morning I decided to make something that made me feel beautiful.

Something that felt like grabbing a fistful of sunflowers while thundering down a mountainside.

Like wearing silver heels in the backyard just to watch the light glitter.

Like winking at a boy in a big truck because yours is bigger.

Like arching your back in the afternoon sun.

Like putting on lipstick even though no one is home.

And so, I did.

By the way,
Have I told you today that you're beautiful?
YOU
ARE
(period)

* * *
In the shopparoo now!

Good Morning!

I fell in to bed waaaaaaaaay to late last night, long after the moon had set and the clouds had rolled in low and thick.  And somehow, this morning, my eyelids snapped open at 7:30 am and I just had to bound out of bed.  The air outside smells like camping; green and damp and so thick with moisture you could nearly drink it.  There is a chill but I have the windows thrown wide open.

All furred beasts have been fed (truly their feeding routines are a thing of obscene luxury).

One small pot of Irish Breakfast tea with milk and agave has been consumed.

I'm just so excited to get into the studio today.  I need to flip the switch on this and refill that and cut more of those and measure twice, always measure twice.

And I can't wait to show you what I've been working on.

Steady in the Dark: A Collection of Mothish Stones

A message

(for the night of heart, for the dark days, for the scales that cover our eyes)

A reminder
(that light you hold within your chest is a beacon of lunar navigation, those wings you beat are strong enough to rise above)

A prayer
(for steady hands, steady feet, for trust in inner dreams and innate knowledge)

* * *
A humble moth offering for you, this Friday afternoon, listed in the shop momentarily.
~ Umber ~