4:40am
October 22, 2014
Schorl/black tourmaline, fire agate, tiger eye, lapis lazuli. With sometimes amber ring and agate ring.
4:35am
October 22, 2014
Fire agate and amethyst. With occasional appearances by an amber ring and a green agate ring.
5:16am
June 4, 2014
If I could reach through the computer screen…
I want to hand you a lapis lazuli ball
So you can lose yourself in the deep blue
And be dazzled by the gold specks.
I want you to roll it over and over in your hand
Gently nose it to feel its texture
And weigh it in your hand.
I want to hand you my black tourmaline egg
So you can feel that unique texture
I want you to hold it while you sleep
And wake up to it, warm and slick in your hand
I want to hand you my amber ring
So you can watch the sunlight turn it into fire
And watch the sun set inside it glittering red, orange, and yellow
I want to do these things
So that I can say
We share these sensory experiences
And nothing can take that away
I want to hand things back and forth
And clack them together to hear their sounds
And rub them on our cheeks
And brush them against our fingertips
Then I want to hand you things too big to pick up:
The warmth and smell of a granite mountainside as the sun heats it up all day long.
The liquid sunlight melting across the coat of a cat who embodies sunlight well.
The whole cycle of life that takes place in the soil of a redwood forest. And the smell of that soil.
The deep rumbling sound of the Mother Tree when you’re curled up against it, surrounded by its invisible amethyst glow.
The feeling of lying in bed, but at the same time, being surrounded by a deep, glowing blue sky, as if pre-dawn or post-dusk. And listening to the music of the forest. Listening with my skin, listening with my eyes, listening with my fingertips, listening with my nose. Listening with everything more than my ears. Being wrapped in the song of the forest and the stars and the trees and the soil and the fungus, all singing, all singing inside me.
I know you can feel the layers of sensory experience. The layers of meaning that come before the meaning of mind. The things we were meant to forget, when we learned to think their way. The things we didn’t forget, the things that we retained no matter what we were told to forget. The stillness, the silence. The music in the silence, the growth and death and birth cycling endlessly.
I would hand you these things, if I could reach through a computer screen. And I would take whatever you handed back, and listen to it sing its unique song. And we could communicate the way we are meant to communicate. By what came before thought, by what came before sight and sound, touch and smell, by the resonance in what came before.
9:21am
April 8, 2014
This is one of my rare things where I buy good jewelry. As in, it’s definitely a couple steps above the usual super-cheap stuff I get. I wanted something to commemorate my connection with fire, and this seemed perfect. I don’t know whether it’s amber or imitation amber, but whatever it is, it has a lot of depth to it so that when you look inside it, it almost glows in the sunlight. And it goes really well with my other most meaningful piece of jewelry, a necklace with redwoods in it – somehow they both have the same sense of depth, and they’re very similar in shape.
4:14am
March 14, 2014
Honey Bee and Honey Drop Necklace
Crafted with a vintage, faceted, pear-shaped amber glass jewel and an antique brass bee charm. This necklace is hung on a bronze cable chain. Don’t worry, the bee won’t sting you. Sold on Etsy.
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