The next time was when I was getting ready to have my second child. My first child was born via an unexpected c-section. I did everything I could to avoid it, but once I went into kidney failure, I had no choice. I spent two years researching VBAC. As my due date approached, I felt the urge to create a talisman to wear during the birth. I splurged and bought strands of moonstone, jade, rose quartz, freshwater pearls, and amethysts. I strung them together and added a large mother-of-pearl circle as a pendant. I researched the meanings and powers behind each stone. The name we picked out for our daughter meant "Little Pearl," and her middle name, Diana, represents the goddess of the moon, the hunt, birthing, and the woodlands (all things with which I am rather obsessed!). So each part of the necklace tied in with her name and with the whole journey of childbirth and motherhood.
Four and a half years later, I was invited by a long-time friend and mentor, artist Johanna Hansen, to make some brooches for an art show called "Brooch the Subject" at a Gallery space she rented out. I had seen some of the fascinating brooches she herself had made for previous shows, and said I was definitely interested. I combed through my old jewelry, some of my late grandmother's costume jewelry, and used various vintage findings, fabrics, trims, and charms to make brooches in my own style.
I don't really know what my main aesthetic is, unless there is one all-encompassing term that describes all things woodland critter, lace, nature, death & decay, the beautiful pointlessness of daily monotony, quirk & whimsy, all wrapped up in a bit of a dadaist-little-old-lady package. For example, the above piece is a bit of an homage to autumn... the acorn and leaf signifying the changes in nature; the clothespin is a nod to the chores we must do; the feathers and lace are the link between nature's discard and man-made "stuff"; consider the fact that we tend to cling to our material things and not want to let go, often because we fear we "might" need it at some point in the future, and meanwhile birds can just shed feathers and leave them behind. They know they don't need them, and they know that should they need more, the problem will fix itself.
I create these things, and ponder the meanings within, and I take yet another step back and chuckle to myself. Isn't this all just a flash in the pan? I have to ask myself... what do we leave behind? Diamonds, pearls, the memory of a mother who dutifully hung the laundry on the line? Do we merely leave our bones to mingle among the flowers?
xo,
E
(To see these brooches and many more, stop by The Next Door Gallery (2963 Beech St, San Diego, CA 92102) during the South Park Winter Walkabout on December 1st, 2012. My brooches will be for sale along with brooches by several other local artists and original one-of-a-kind folk art by Johanna Hansen.)
