September 29, 2007

Goodbye until next year....

Today was the last local farmer's market of the season.

Nothing more to say.
Just wanted to post some pictures.


September 24, 2007

magazines, beads, and snakes...

My friend, Cindy, and I were driving around town a couple of weeks ago and stopped at
Hannelore's house to shop at her yard sale.

She had 80 issues of old Ornament magazines dating back to 1979.

We bought them all! Every
single one!

was a contributor to Ornament for many years and is the author of the huge and beautiful book, The Jewelry of Nepal.

A few months ago,
she invited me to her home to rummage through a dusty old box of beads she had stashed away from her travels through India and Nepal back in the late 70's. It was like finding buried treasure! I bought a bunch but have not been able to bring myself to use them. Maybe they will hang on my studio wall for a while and belong just to me.

The snake in Hannelore's garden.

September 21, 2007


Another bead show, another year in debt!
This was my 6th annual trip to Denver for what is billed as the second largest bead show in the country. (Tucson is the largest).
It's still overwhelming, but not quite as much as the first time, when
I entered a mammoth tent and saw row after row after row of long tables, each piled high with strands of gems in every imaginable size and color. I stopped just inside the door to catch my breath and take it all in when my friend, Deb, suddenly appeared out of nowhere and stood beside me.
Giddy and wild-eyed, I declared, "This must be heaven"!
"No", she said.
"If this was heaven we could get naked and roll around in them".

September 19, 2007

Once upon a time....

...long ago, I lived in a cabin 10,000 feet high in the rocky mountains....a real cabin...built deep in the woods by some intrepid miner when the west was wild. One room, a wood stove, a bed, a table, a chair. My possessions were just the essentials: a good ax for splitting wood, a kerosene lamp, a few changes of clothes and
a small collection of really great books.
No car. I walked the three miles to town and back twice a week to waitress at the local cafe and earn enough money for groceries.

In summer, fields of wildflowers replaced the deep and pristine snows of winter. The stars were vivid and bright, unpolluted by any city lights. The silence was sublime.
At night, warmed by a fire in the old box stove, I'd heat a pail of clear spring water and have a luxurious head-to-toe sponge bath before wrapping myself in a billowy down comforter and falling into a deep and peaceful sleep.

I lived there for two glorious years.
It was the greatest experience of my life.