Cast jackrabbit vertebra, fabricated ferns, carved turquoise cross, a bazillion tiny pearls & sterling silver…
I had a welling up.
August 21, 2016 by
Summer Nights
August 18, 2016 by
I rode my neighbors’ Peruvian Paso and Missouri Foxtrotter in the morning, all across the two track on the canyon edge — the river dazzling in turquoise and sapphire beneath us while the horses kicked up plumes of dust with their shambling, ice smooth gaits. I still smell lightly of equine and sweat.
The sun is sinking through wildfire smoke, casting an unearthly glow on the sage, the rising moon, the endlessly curving faces of the fruit I am picking. I am barefoot now, stepping on the sweet rot of apples fallen from the trees. I taste a plum. Then one more — yellow, deep purple and ruby red. I’m sullen over missing the cherry crop. Apples and pears drop to the ground, sporadically, landing with muted thumps in the dirt. I can hardly believe all of this is ours. I slap a mosquito dead on the back of my hand. I run my fingers through the knots in my hair. Tater barks out loud, for joy. Me too.
I wish Robert could quit this fire season and come home to me so we might start in on making this place even more of a sanctuary, even more of a paradise.
NOW CLOSED :: Nine Sweet Years :: GIVEAWAY
August 16, 2016 by
Thank you all for celebrating with me and for the kind sentiments you left in the comment section on this post. You’re the best.
The winner is comment #86 — randomly generated, of course.
I’ve never had a man win a giveaway before but there’s a first time for everything! Mister Andrew Bell, you’ve won this Caesura Necklace for your beautiful bride. I hope she loves it.
Again, thank you all!
XX
———————————————————————-
Way back yonder in July (which seems so long ago now), The Noisy Plume turned 9 years old which means I’ve been messing around with metal for a full decade now. Some of you have been with me from the very beginning and some of you found me only moments ago but I want to tell you thanks, with all my heart, for being a part of my little world. I couldn’t have built my tiny empire if it wasn’t for your tender loving care, your appreciation for handcrafted jewelry, your craving for images of wild spaces and the words to go with them. I’ve grown, learned and changed so much, so has this little business of mine, so have you…and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
The bottom line is, I love to create for you. I’m not going to stop. Here’s to many years more of you and I — of us.
As always, simply leave a comment on this blog post to enter your name in the drawing for this Caesura Necklace. I wish I had 100 to give away. If the spirit leads you, I am giving away a second (and different) necklace over on my Instagram account and I’d love to see you drop your name in the hat there, too. Men, enter your names for you wives, daughters, nieces — all are welcome and I am happy to ship internationally. I’ll leave this giveaway open until commenting tapers off and I feel like closing it, regardless, don’t delay entering!
I cherish you.
Roll on, you beauts.
X
Eden
August 14, 2016 by
There is a road less traveled, paved with thin air and pine needles; I rode it by his side, bumped up and over the pass towards the sky. There was a pool, out of the way, where the stream sliced granite, the cold water chilled deeper by conifer shadow and fern. There were fish, fractal rainbows painted with thick parr marks, spirits willing but mouths too small to swallow our flies down. There, we swam, crawled out onto the boulders, half-naked and primordial — Adam and Eve in a perfect garden for two. Time passed, every hour, every moment holy. We quit our fight against the seconds of the day, we quit our grappling with minutes lost, the hours of life were without expiration dates and we allowed them to slip, with grace, over our heads and shoulders in quiet benediction.
Take me to the river. Dip me in the water.
July 31, 2016 by
I love this sequence of Hilary paddling class III on the Main Salmon in an inflatable kayak. I went down something similar on one of those…how do you say…SUP boards? I ate crap. Real bad. Apparently lungs aren’t meant to hold water.
That said, I’ve never minded vigorous river baptisms. I don’t even think I mind being pulled under water, like a spindly rag of seaweed, tossed and turned like a pair of lacy undies in the washing machine. I like the bright and squinting moment when I pop up into the sky once more, hear the rapids heavy with fizzing air all around me, gulp down some oxygen, and then go subaqueous once more.
I think I like it because I’ve watched the fish do it and they seem so joyful when they reach up and kiss the seam of air that stitches the river to the sky. But also, to be in it, to sense the power of it, to be lifted up and dragged down by it is to know it. To know it is to understand it. To understand it is to love it. To love it is to respect it.
