Lucky old dogs.

They’re on perpetual weekend mode. This is what Penelope and Farley were up to yesterday while I was sweating out a tough solder on my workbench (for a belt buckle that STILL is not finished….arghhhhhh). I wonder what it’s like to wake up in the morning, put your whiskers all over your mum’s face while she’s in bed, jump around while waiting for your bowl of kibble, chase the squirrels in the front yard for a bit, lay in the sun and nap for hours at a time and then curl up in my antique chair in the studio with a sibling and nap for a few more hours while I happily toil away with my metal and stones? What the heck is that like?

Actually, I think I’d be bored to death if I functioned in this manner on a daily basis. I don’t view my work as an actual job. I like it too much. I breathe it. I live it! When the weekends roll around I often spend a couple of hours out in my studio simply recreating or sketching or enameling . RW will stroll in and put his hands on his hips whilst saying, “Jilliaaaaannnnnnnnnnnnn…are you working or recreating?” Of course, I’ll respond with, “Recreating!” If I didn’t, he’d drag me into the house and we’d bake pumpkin pies together, or something. He’s very stern about this weekends off thing.

Anyway, the dogs get especially weekendy weekends when we decide to shove off from the stable ground of the homestead and sail to someplace new, as we will be this weekend. I’ll tell you more about this later on this afternoon.

prudent man agate, enameled & pierced copper disc (by me), carnelian, melancholy mistress, little lost river paintbrush jasper

This stone is grown in the earth of Idaho. I’ve set a ring with a marvelous slice of the stuff AND I’ve set an Inheritance Necklace with a slice of the stuff. I love Idaho. To work with stone that is actually prospected in this state is a complete pleasure for me. To work with stone that LOOKS like this state, is complete bliss. The prudent man agate affects me in a similar manner. The cabochon I selected for the Inheritance Necklace above actually looks like the mountains that rise up to the West of my home. The landscape is so familiar to me — sage brush, junipers, undulating valleys and run-off ravines, cottonwood, maple and aspen lined creek beds that trail down the sides of the mountains in a hot blaze. My spring creek, always cold. Somewhat secret. Flowing out of the ground, up in those hills, and down into my yard to water my grapes, my plums, my gardens. I feel like a child of those hills. To have found their countenance, wrought in stone, was a bit of a miracle. If you feel a strong connection with the patterns in these cabochons, you feel a strong connection to me, my life, my hills, my Idaho. That’s magic.

What is even magic-er (not a real word) is once I finished work yesterday night, I tied on my runners, plopped a toque on my head, pulled a pair of mitts onto my hands and became part of those hills of mine. I ran my hands over the tall grasses, I pulled the scent of sage into my lungs as I climbed the hills higher. I drew myself into the landscape of these stones.

And now I need to run out to the studio and finish a ring before I photograph and begin listing these baubles for you! I’m going to try to commence the update promptly at 3PM MST. I hope you’ll join me!

With abiding affection,