[I have been working. Steadily and quietly. Happily and freely. Building a small empire of rings to set free in my shop sometime this week. Stay tuned.]
I get better, as years go by, at putting my head down and quietly working. I wasn’t always this way. I used to squander my energy on all kinds of useless things, all kinds of tragic relationships, all kinds of confused, ego-driven contrivances that only served to dull my light (and I should clarify when I say ego, I am referring to my own). I’ve changed a lot over the years, I am grateful I have, grateful for growth and earnestly eager for more depth and strength to arrive to my wobbly little frame, as depth and strength will arrive, on the edges of blades and the whims of wind. I recover faster from heartbreak these days. I wouldn’t say my skin has thickened, I don’t want it to. I value my sensitivities. I can tell you that I break just as badly and easily as I ever did. I shatter like a glass window under the stress of a piercing high note when I am in a thorny pair of indelicate hands. And, quite sadly, I have known a lot of thorny, indelicate hands. Haven’t we all? The good news is this: something in me pushes back hard against the violence of life. I heal faster than I ever did before. I don’t have time to wallow in the miry clay. I feel what I must feel, take the blunt, punching force of consequence directly on the chin, as I must, from time to time. When I am angry, I literally run the fire of my rage down to ash and cast it off into the wind before it burns me black from the inside out. I don’t have time for the things I used to make time for. But I digress. In the here and now, while I quietly work, the space falls silent around me, I wear peace like a cloak and I find I have so much appreciation for the grace of my studio and the big windows that look out past the jungle of my yard and into the rolling face of beautiful Idaho.
Today, I am in the studio and Imogen Heap’s “Hide and Seek” has started to quietly and powerfully trickle out of the speakers below the workbench. I’ve left the lights off, as I do most days, the sky is pouring in the huge window that looks steadily West. The song begins to crescendo. I sing along. Out of the corner of my eye I catch a glimpse of broad, flittering movement from South of the house, a swaying of slight shadow that seems to stem from the very roots of Scout Mountain where it stands gleaming and wide, slapping thin air at 9000ft. I raise my head to look, to see, to understand the thing that has caught my eye; I see a mumuration of starling as it sweeps over the yard and up into the prickly tower of the blue spruce where it hangs in careful shades of teal over my quirky little farmhouse. The tree bends and shifts in the wind, carefully catching birds, one by one bringing each to bough. It is raining. The whole world outside my big window is wet, wind beaten and bleeding blue under a strange spring sky. The spruce is loaded and bursting with birds. A lesser grouping of starling sweeps in, swirls and settles in the catalpa tree. I look up once more from writing this in my sketchbook to see the starling leave as wildly and briskly as they arrived, I hold in my breath as I watch the mass of dark flapping, up they go, across the sagebrush and then gone. Fleeting. Their presence was fleeting. I exhale.
I feel lonely. Those birds owned my heart, if only for a short while.
Sometimes I belong to a beautiful thing for a matter of seconds, mere minutes, short days, tidy weeks, a month or two, a quick splay of a year…no matter the length of time I am bound to it, bound to a beautiful thing, I miss it when it goes.
Oh how lovely!
The writing – and of course the rings 🙂
xx
Utterly beautiful, the writing, and the rings…
I know these beauties will be snatched up before I even return home from work- such a loss for me and treasures for others! I love how you’ve described your shift in focus as well as how things capture you from time to time- a great paradox in itself. And, I’m happy for you as you enshroud yourself in more peace and lovely intent on what sets your soul alight. xoxo
i sit here wearing several noisy plume pieces, and i feel much like you must’ve felt, like these bits of stone and silver gather up the weariness of my spirit, lifting it in murmuration, to land elsewhere, like the starlings owned your heart and lifted it out of the studio. bless you for beautiful poetry to remove me from the world for just a bit of time….
and….oh-no-you-didn’t….you just came up with bright-n-cheery baubles to tempt me.
Oh, you’ve been busy! And your business turns quite to beauty.
This morning a coyote and five deer busied themselves in the field behind the house. I also missed them when they turned and kicked up slush and snow to take to the woods.
xx
Your ability to pen thoughts so vividly is really quite intriguing. I greatly appreciate your honesty and just wanted to thank you for sharing so openly with this rad community of readers. Oh and the rings…love ’em!
Hey, thanks for all the honesty. It’s good to read your words.
I feel like I’m in the middle of learning how to put my head down and work. I’m a musician not a metalworker and maker of beautiful rings, but I think both require aloneness and hard hard work. It feels like a head game, often. If you got to the other side, I am hopeful I will someday get there too. These days my brain feels squirrely and jumpy, unable to hunker down and do what needs to be done and I have so many excuses…. gosh.
i just exclaimed out loud while sitting at my desk! upon seeing all these rings. oh well, my coworkers are used to me.
how fun!!! thanks for the smile!!
Thank you for this, dearest jillian! I’ve been put through the wringer this past weekend – afraid that this anger and sadness will never burn up and drift away. Reading your words help, a great deal.
Adore & Want all the gems! Much Love
32 is such a wonderful place to be. You’ve already learned so many things – been through enough to gain insight and strength – and yet there is time still for more, and better, and moving forward. To me your words sing of quietly maturing and wisdom and happiness. You are in a fine place and a fine life and I feel joy for you because I’ve known that place and it’s wonderful. You have a lovely voice!
And the beautiful rings? What can I say? Maybe next year, when I’m not saving to get home to the mountains. But yes – one of these days. They have a voice too.
that last sentence… oh, yes.
the wisdom to understand that beauty is a wild free thing and not ours to hold onto,
only to be grateful for when it chooses to sit on our shoulder for a while.
xoxo
WOW. That’s one of the finest pieces of writing I’ve seen in a long time, anywhere. I’m finally able to write again, and will. For the moment, I have this to offer: http://www.theatlantic.com/infocus/2014/02/the-murmurations-of-starlings/100690/
x
Hurrah! May my fingers (stubby and sausage-y though they may be) soon don some lovely plumage!
A timely post indeed fine one…you had me paralyzed at ‘I don’t have time for the things I used to make time for.’ in particular this week that rings so loud for this gal…thank you for bringing your thoughts/feelings to surface…for it brought some of mine to light.
This is not even to mention the amazingness of ringalicious plentitude set forth here.
Thank you Jillian. Your sensitive strength is amazing, and this beautiful post such a balm to me as I struggle through a particularly violent patch of life. Life loves us, but not always softly. Thank you for reminding me of the value of that grandest of all loves. X
I could not have read your words at a better time — for several days I have been quite suddenly grasped by “a thorny pair of indelicate hands” and it has been a gut punch — I needed the reminder that I do not have to sacrifice my own sensibilities as I push back against this. Thanks.
And I found myself holding my breath as I was reading your post. Beautiful. All of it.
I recall recently thinking, shouldn’t I have thicker skin by now? Shouldn’t this hurt less? No, it shouldn’t, because I choose to keep myself open. But, I also realized that I too am quicker to quell those fires–to recognize what’s happening, feel it, accept it, and move on. There is still pain. I am so trusting, and I take people at their word, no matter how many times I am lied to or deceived. I chose to be this way. Your words are a thing of beauty–you bring to light something that many people cannot put into words.
You are beautiful, golden, serene, and fierce all at once.
A beautiful piece of writing.!
Kisses, wee firebird. (The gift of ash, no?) =D
xxx
you my friend are as beautiful as your work….
blessings
love and light
damn girl… you’ve done it again! gorgeous as always. 🙂
You capture my heart, with those rings and your words. You always do. Beautiful fist full of rings lassie! Welcome home indeed.
Beautiful post. Lovely rings, lovely words.
stunning as always..
xx
trisha
veranellies.blogspot.com