Last week, on Thursday, when I was up to my ears with an enormous shipping manifest that took me twelve hours to package and ship, I was struck with fatigue in the afternoon. I put on a warm coat and a toque and I walked out to the hayfield. I sat on the ground. Across the expanse I saw Coulee and Hawk lift their heads and watch me. A cat joined me there, then a second cat, then Ernest. We sat in a pile of warm bodies and then I lay down on my side on the sweet smelling earth, listened to the wind move at 35mph through the trees — roaring like the ocean against a coastal cliff — and I rested. I fell asleep ! and woke up to the feeling of Hawk’s lips on my ear. I don’t know how long I slept for, perhaps only for a few winks, maybe for an hour, but being in complete bodily relaxation, in the sun, out of the wind, on the warm and living earth restored me enough that I gently knocked all the cats and dogs off my body, stood up, and strode with purpose back to the studio to finish my work.

Stepping outside to take a rest is something I am practicing more than ever. When I feel drained I chug a huge mason jar of water and then I step out the front door to pick up a sun charge and an earth charge. It’s such a clean, effortless, substance free way to power up my system and it seems to relieve me of negative thought cycles while crackling my bones in their sockets. Most importantly, this ancient remedy is free to all for all humans inhabit the same earth beneath the same miraculous sun. How lucky are we?

The horses are growing sleek and shiny here as the nut rows keep blooming and the orchard swirls into color. The only thing I can think to complain about lately is the wind. It has been so heavy handed, raging regularly between 30mph and 70mph. I feel my soul has been eroded to a small, lackluster nub. I think this has been a windier than usual springtime on the steppe.

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We suffered some heartbreak here recently. We tried to buy the acreage next-door after the Californian who paid too much for it a few years ago gave up his homesteading dream and threw in the towel. A for sale sign, in some cases, admits defeat. If that sounds condescending, it’s not, it’s just the truth. We put in a high offer based on a few other local property prices and it was rejected. As it happens, the place sold for a price that is 200% over the legitimate market value which is happening all over this river valley right now. People are simply slapping arbitrary prices on their properties and selling their properties as bidding wars ensue.

I know this phenomenon of gentrification is happening in rural communities all over the West right now as America reshuffles itself, but it’s heartbreaking to watch. It’s heartbreaking to watch native Idahoans who grew up here and WANT to live here, farm here, ranch here…be locked out of the land and housing market by people who can pay whatever they want for property. It’s agonizing to witness.

It can be difficult to find a sacred little place that you genuinely love, that is beautiful and quiet and clean…and then to watch the rest of the world discover it and carve it up and slowly destroy it. My heart feels broken a little more, every day, for the beautiful place, for the beautiful state we call home. Poor Idaho. She used to be lovely, now she’s something else.

This is starting to sound self pitying and I hate that, I don’t view myself as a victim, I’m just expressing something that is lodged in my throat right now. I hate this. I hate what is going on here. I hate the volume of Californian refugees moving into this state, but I can understand why they are leaving California. I am simultaneously feeling compassion and contempt. I asked Robbie a few days ago, “Will this state fill up and will people stop coming here? It seems overfull already. I’ve seen the way these new people trash everything they touch, build massive houses (monuments to themselves), drive over the wildflowers, act with such extreme entitlement. I don’t like them. Is Idaho full? I hope Idaho is full.”

Robert was silent, which caused me to be silent, too.

This said, this expressed, we are deeply grateful we bought our farm when we did, that we secured a space for ourselves that serves to sustain our small family and that we can contribute to our community with our hay and garlic crop while growing, raising, hunting and foraging most of our food. I do not know what is to become of Idaho but we are still so thankful to call this place home.

In the meanwhile, we have this earth, this sun, these horses and we are well.

First of all, let me express heart felt gratitude to everyone who made it out to my shop update a couple of days ago. You sold me out of 86 pieces of jewelry in 3 minutes — a truly glorious tornado of support! I spent 12 hours printing shipping labels and packing jewelry and it is with great joy that I send this apple blossom collection out into the world. I will be carrying this series through April and possibly into May, not just because there is demand for this work, but because this series has brought me so much joy! I want to make more! So I shall.

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Last night I finished this book in bed. It was so beautiful, I wish I could read it again for the first time. This is the third book I have read by Michael D. O’Brien and I’m not sure I can compare his work to any other writer in the world — past, present or future. He’s an amazing storyteller. His characters are so human that it makes them almost super human — they endure and survive such suffering and agonies that by the end of the story they seem to glow with simple brillance…their suffering illuminates something within them that cannot be snuffed out. If you’ve read any of his books you might know what I mean. The other thing I will mention about his writing is that he writes about awful things, sometimes the suffering of these fictional characters is UNBEARABLE for me to read about. His stories are woven together with ideas about art, faith, suffering, resurrection, philosophy, humanity….and they’re SMART…anyway, if you are looking for a new book to read, Island of the World is phenomenal (so is Cry of Stone and Father Elijah). Here’s an excerpt I read last night from Island of the World, if you want to understand the complete context please read the book!

“The poet who sees himself as a hero or a prophet, or a priest of the socio-political forces to which he is loyal, which he believes are the historical necessities of his times, too easily becomes a puppet. He has no external measure with which to assess reality. Whether he submits to the forces or rejects them, he becomes a parody of himself, and then without knowing it submits his gifts to the demons of his era. He loses his place in the continuity of time. He becomes dependent on social affirmation and the drug of exalted feelings common to all revolutionaries. He destroys, even as he thinks he creates.“

This especially resonated with me as I do my best, each day, to not become one more soldier in this culture war. I am not called to be a soldier, I’m called to be something else. I am attempting to serve humanity by creating an uplifting catalogue of work that buoys my supporters, my friends, instead of alienating them and dragging them down into the mire. Sometimes I am successful in this work, sometimes I fail, but I am always trying. I want to bring people together. I do not want be one more person hammering wedges down deep.

Nobody owns me. Nobody owns my mind. The work I am doing is free work born of freedom. I’m going to do my best to keep it that way. This is my pledge as a free thinking woman and working artist.

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These lovely, simple egg trays by A Question of Eagles. This is a favorite ceramicist of mine.

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I watched The Durrells last summer and have meant to mention this show to you ever since! It becomes increasingly difficult to find interesting, funny, wholesome movies and tv series and this one tickled my funny bone in the very best way. It’s great storytelling, the characters are quirky and human, the setting is very small town, very rural, which is relatable for me. I also love the way British and Greek culture is portrayed in the storyline. I think this is a series you could enjoy alone or watch with the family. I share it here with high recommendations! It is streaming on Amazon but I think you can also watch it via PBS. Enjoy!

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My dear lady friend, Hilary, over at Two Poppies Apothecary is brewing up wonderful, clean things for the mind, body and soul. Try her serums and mists to help ease your complexion out of winter and into summer.

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Tara left Instagram around Christmas but you can still find her writings and ruminations on her mothership website — Slow Down Farmstead. She is smart, she is deep rooted, she is hardworking, and she’s a fine writer. Reading her short essays and prose is always food for thought for me. While I don’t always agree with her (I don’t need to agree with people to find their ideas interesting), I agree with her on many topics, and I’m thankful for the way she consistently pushes my mind out of its comfort zone. Her writing is not for anyone terminally addicted to convenience and consumption…or maybe her writing IS for those people? I don’t know. Read at your own glorious risk and be curious and inspired or be provoked and filled with rage! It’s up to you.

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This pretty thing. Pretty as an almond blossom.

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The farm is in bloom and I need to spend some time over the next few days doing a little wandering about with my camera. Springtime photos to come!

Happy spring!

I will be stocking my shop shelves on April 7 at 10am! I hope to see you there.

The Sister Cuffs. I made the first of this series as a birthday present to myself in the month of February. The idea to create a wide cuff with repeated wire lengths was an original idea to me, by that I mean the idea welled up out of my own mind, I didn’t see something like this in the jewelry world and set out to make something just like it. I didn’t believe the idea was original to the world of jewelry design, but it was original to me in the moment that the inspiration for it arrived. I’m going to come back to this concept in a moment. First, back to the cuff.

I set the first cuff, my birthday cuff, with a buttery cut of dendritic opal and have worn it on my wrist every day since. Now I feel a belongingness to it and I push it up and over my wrist bone every morning before I take on the day. If I forget to put it on, my arm feels bare and vulnerable and like there’s nothing to stop the wind from grabbing it and waving it around frantically like a weeping willow branch in the canyon breezes.

This design is clean, simple, bold and timeless. I made a few more and named the cuff series the “Sisters”. There’s something strong about this design, unwavering, and I like how the cuffs are all the same but different, just like real sisters are. These cuffs take a ton of weighted hammer work on the anvil (oy, my neck and shoulder!!!) and use up about 100grams of silver, each. Heavy! I used Kingman turquoise in these settings. Can you believe the range in color!?!!

After sharing an image of these cuffs on Instagram a friend of mine mentioned this image of Georgia O’Keefe to me and said that my cuffs were granddaughters of Georgia’s cuff. I thought that was so beautiful! What a wonderful example of a sort of sisterhood, across time and place and space. And heck, what great taste Georgia had!!!

Back to the idea I shared about originality. I never really set out to make something that the world has never seen before. I’m not sure such a thing is possible. But I do try to groom my inspiration, protect it a bit, and glean it directly from my own life experiences, from the environments I call home, from true aspects of my real life. I know that my work will overlap with other silversmiths — past, present, and future. I’m ok with that. It’s a beautiful thing to be on the same planet, genuinely sharing inspiration with others, and creating! What is most important to me is that when I do sit down to create that I can be as sure as possible that the idea I have is an idea that welled up out of me, and is thereby original to me. I’m really not a member of the online jewelry realm though I do have a few close friends who are silversmiths. I keep myself at a distance and I don’t allow myself to silently lurk. It’s a choice. It requires some discipline. I love to look at art. I have many friends who are painters, sculptors, writers, filmmakers…but I try to limit how much jewelry I look at, especially in online spaces. In point of fact, the only jewelry I spend time looking at is old stuff from other cultures, other ethnicities, other eras…and I prefer books and museums over the internet.

I’m just typing aloud now and am beginning to ramble but I supposed I mostly wanted to say that sometimes when I can tell that I have shared an honest inspiration with another artist, when I see an overlapping aesthetic that is true and natural, I just think to myself:

SISTER!!!

I suppose I wanted to mention all of this because I love the connections this design has formed for me between my work, Georgia, my own flesh and blood sisters (I have two and I really miss them), my girlfriends, all the women I love and cherish in my life who are strong, weighty, joyful, presences who tether my soul to the here and now in such beautiful ways.

I’ll be listing these cuffs in my shop at the end of March! Stay tuned for a day and time.