Chevrons

Chevrons are the most difficult and complicated of all the Venetian beads to make. Created by the Constantini family, they are made up of several layers of colored glass rods. Historically, chevrons were used in the rosaries of cardinals. Some of the most sophistacated chevrons had seven, eight or occasionally nine layers of color!

In Africa, during the bead trade, chevrons came to represent absolute power and authority. They were worn and collected exclusively by the tribal chiefs. During the American bead trade, tribal chiefs also retained chevrons for themselves.

In recent years bead makers in India and China have started copying them. I exclusively use and collect the chvrons created by the Constantinis.

My Inspiration for Jewelry

My inspiration for jewelry that I design often comes from history. For example, the Empress series was inspired by the jewelry of Catherine the Great. There is a portrait of her, wearing a multi-strand choker of pearls, with two strands of pearls that looked like it went all the way to her navel. In between the two long strands of pearls, there is another strand of either rubies or garnets, with a red crystal pendant, of either ruby or garnet, that’s as long as my hand! I have dreams about that necklace!

I also read that her favorite gemstone was actually amber. She commissioned that room in the Kremlin that is wall-to-wall amber! It’s amazing. Hence many of the amber necklaces I design are named for her.

Another item that I have drooled about is the turquoise and diamond earring and necklace set that is shown in the Smithsonian, that once belonged to Marie Antoinette. Oh, my God! Perfect, Persian, robins-egg blue turquoise pendants the size of duck eggs! Hand-carved rosettes and briolettes of diamonds inches long. I had read about it. It was presented to her by her father-in-law, Louis X!V. It was said that his mistress, Madame Pompadour, was furious that it went to Marie Antoinette, and not to her. She also coveted the Tavernier Diamond, a phenomenal five-sided blue diamond that was initially presented to Louis XIV by the explorer Henri Tavernier. It was first set in a brooch, and was called the Medal of Freedom. After the French Revolution, it disappeared.(Gee, what a surprise) It turned up decades later, and much smaller. It was to become what we have come to know as the Hope Diamond. Damn! That’s another piece that haunts me.

In many respects, my tastes are from the Bronze Age. I just groove on the idea of rubies the size of my fist, that are too big too fit in my navel, and I’ve got a perfect “inney”. Yeah, arm cuffs studded with gems! Gold, jewel-studded necklaces that would stagger a goat! I drool when I think about it. It’s why I make big jewelry.

Elizabeth Tudor loved pearls. There are over 2,000 seed pearls sewn onto the gown in which she was corona ted. Some whispered that her love of ‘gems was“mannish”. Don’t forget, back then, gold, precious gems, were exclusively the purview of priests and the Holy Roman Empire (for the glory of God) and kings, who represented God’s rule on Earth.

Eleanor of Aquitaine was the first European woman of record to receive an engagement ring. It was a diamond, set in gold. The Pope was horrified when he heard about it. And it scandalized both the French and Norman(English) court. People whispered that Eleanor had “bewitched” Henry Plantagenet. The tittering turned into a roar when she married Henry, and was crowned Queen, with a little, tiny gold circlet, that wouldn’t keep your hair out of your eyes, its so to thin. But she was the first woman in Europe to be Crowned. That really got the Pope’s bowels in an uproar. He called Eleanor a witch. He threatened Henry with excommunication, if he didn’t take it back. Eventually, he was, but that had more to do with Thomas Beckett, than Eleanor. Although, she had no love for Beckett, and urged Henry to disassociate himself from Beckett. But that’s another rant.

And pearls were worn more by men than women. No gentleman would ever be caught dead at Court, without a nice pair of pearl bobs! Christopher Columbus, was so poor, that he did not own a pair of pearl earrings. When he was first invited to the Spanish Royal Court, he had none to wear. Ferdinand was contemptuous of a man with no earrings, and refused to see him. A courtier, who was friendly to Columbus, loaned in his best pair, when Isabella agreed to see him. She was intrigued by a man with bold ideas and great ambition, yet from such humble origins begging audience with her. It is said that she was so taken with him, that she gave him a pair of his own. Those he wore when he made is formal appeal to the King and Queen of Spain, when he presented his Letter of Recommendation from the Pope. But it was said that his clothes were quite shabby, and not in fashion. No doubt he dressed like an Italian sailor, not a Spanish courtier. And they said he smelled. History has shown us that he must not have stunk too badly for Isabella. She granted him a private audience, and the money received to buy those the ships came from her.

Rosary

I seldom create rosaries. However, beads have always been used in prayer. While personaly agnostic, I respect and honor those who have faith. The recent events in the Gulf are as good a reason as any to put it out there. You may have a closer look at
http://www.beadbear.com/f1008.shtml

Oil Disaster

Okay, it’s time to take over the clean up from BP, seize their assets, put them into receivership, and coordinate between all the affected states. Put General Honore in charge of all of it. Thad Allen is become a useless tool of BP.

It’s time to nationalize the oil companies, and make sure everything they do is safe! Or is time to pledge allegiances to the oil companies, and throw out the Stars an Stripes?!Mr. President, this is a matter of extreme national security. Please act on this now!

We don’t need those damn wars in the Middle East about oil! That’s the only reason Bush went into those wars. That, and to avenge some perceived slight against his father.

Is this your legacy too? Eternal prostitution of this country for oil? I wonder….

Identity

I am Cherokee, African, Irish, French and Dutch. I have been vilified and shunned by my family members for being too dark and/or too red. I do not straighten my hair, much to the chagrin of my mother. My grandfather on my mother’s side was Cherokee/Dutch. He had bright, Dresden china blue eyes, and skin the color of fine mahogany. Grandfather served in both World Wars. He was an expert marksman. Had numerous citations, but received no medals until about 10-15 years after his death in the 70’s.

My grandfather had left my grandmother when my mother was a child. He could not support the family, once the wars were over. And my grandmother would not move out of the city to the country, like he wanted. In the country, he could hunt, fish and trap to provide for the family.

My grandparents separated, and he and eventually ended up living with Native American people in the Seattle area, were he remained until his death. When he died in the mid-60’s, my grandmother had his body shipped back from Seattle to New Orleans. The family was surprised and stunned when “several little old white people, who didn’t speak English very well” appeared for the funeral. They were my grandfather’s relatives from The Netherlands. They were there to collect his body and take to Europe and bury him in the family plot with his mother, and they came armed with legal court documents to do so. Shorty thereafter, I heard that the people with whom he had lived, had my grandfather’s will. It stipulated, among other things, that he be buried in Seattle. So he was exhumed, and brought back to the States. The relatives in New Orleans and in the Netherlands counter-sued. He got flown back to Europe, again. And then back to the States. I’m not sure where he’s buried, today.

I remember the only time I ever met my mother’s father, was when I was eight. My mother was ashamed of him, and did not want us to meet him. He had come all the way from Washington state, to Chicago, just to visit us. To see his grandchildren, his oldest daughter’s children. We talked. He was very serious. I remember seeing his Army discharge papers. He had served with distinction with a Native American Infantry group, an expert marksman. His papers described him as having black skin, with black eyes and black hair. And I asked him why. He told me that it was better to be thought a nigger than a half-breed. Grandfather smiled and acknowledged me and my little brothers. He gave each of us Indian names. He and my mother had an argument over the naming. He left the next day. I never saw him again.

Enlightenment

During the summer break, between fifth and sixth grade, I saw a movie that was life -altering. I saw “The Bridge on the River Kwai”. I had read some history of WWII and the Korean War. Had an uncle that served in the Navy. Heard some of his stories. But none of it prepared me for this: I understood what it meant to be a prisoner of war. I was growing up with a very abusive parent, and was searching for a way to cope. I learned that the”first duty of a prisoner is escape.” And the second lesson, was how not to be broken. How to turn the tables on your captor. “Be happy in your work”. I apprehended the Zen of that statement. And I delighted in the construction of the bridge. But I danced and wept with joy at its destruction.

The second life altering media moment was around the same time, when I first heard Jimi Hendrix. It was life-changing! I had never heard anything like it and had to hear more. When I read his cover of the Star Spangled Banner, I heard in his voice, in the notes emanating from the guitar, what patriotism meant, the excruciating joy and simutaneous anguish.I have collected all of his music. Official releases, bootleg recordings, recordings of all his live concerts in Europe, including recordings of the jam sessions with Little Richard, Buddy Miles, Frank Zappa. I was so devastated when he died. I cried for months. Never got to see him live, much to my eternal disappointment.

The third were several small events my first semester of college. I heard Traffic’s song“Low Spark of High-Heeled Boys”, and the Greatful Dead’s song”New Speedway Boogie”. In the former is was the verse :

“If you had just a minute to breathe and they granted you one final wish.Would you ask for something, like another chance? Or take me for a ride, and strip me ov everything, including my pride? But spirit is something that no one destroys. And the sound that you’re hearing is only the sound of the low spark of high-heeled boys….”

In the latter it was this verse;

“I don’t know, but I’ve been told. It’s ard to run with the weight of gold. On the other hand I’ve heard it said, it’s just as hard with the weight of lead. I don’t know who’s back’s that strong. Mayve find out before too long… one way or the other, this storm has got to give”

From the Harry Nielson movie The Point,a comment made by the Rock Man: “You see what you want to see. You hear what you want to hear”.

It’s That Time

It’s time: Time to step away from the oil and the coal. Wanting something real bad doesn’t make it right. Yeah, we use the oil. We think we need the oil. But let’s face it. We use too much. We’ve over done it. And now we’re sick because of it. So we’re gonna have to change. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. Change is good. Life is about change. Be more energy efficient. What does that mean? It means it’s time to take responsibility for what you use.

Well, for starters, drive less. If you live in an area with public transportation, use it. If it’s not readily available, holler for it. Make it happen in your community. If you take the bus or the train to work, you can get stuff done, without having to hang on to the steering wheel. And, insurance rates will go down, because we won’t need to drive everywhere. There will be less fender-benders. Drunks will be able to barf in taxis, and chat with you on the subway. Isn’t that better than side-swiping your car, or killing you? See, and you won’t be getting tickets for running the red light, either.

Walk there and back. That’s a two-fer, right there. You’ll accidentally get some exercise. That’ll increase the circulation, maybe increase the metabolism, lose a little weight. Your doctor will be so proud. He/She will think you’re following their advice. Ya might even get “lucky”, because you feel better, and look better, eh? And your dog won’t look so much like a barking pig, because you’re walking him/her. (Pick it up! That’s what those plastic grocery bags are good for)

Ride a bike as part of your transportation system. Get one with a good sturdy frame, and nice fat tires. Get one of those nice cushy seats, not an butt-killer like they put on racing bikes. Hell, it’s your bike: detail it like you wanna. Get streamers, paint it, put some good baskets on it so you can carry stuff. Get a really loud horn. Put all kinds of reflectors on it. And good breaks. Really. (Your reflexes ain’t what they used to be) And a good sturdy lock and chain/cable!

Turn off some of those lights. Get dimmer switches. Don’t waste electricity. Don’t forget, someone probably died in a mine, for that coal that’s used by your local power plant. Put solar panels on the roof. Look into tank-less water heaters, or the ones that run under solar panels. Put everything on a surge protectors, and when you leave the house, turn everything off, except the fridge. Window units are more efficient that central heat and air. Use screens on the windows on nice days and get some fresh air in there. Get that film for the windows. Honestly, it works, and it’s neat stuff! Hang the laundry outside to dry. Saves energy; the clothes will be fresher. If you’re shy, hang the undies inside.

Let’s invest in wind energy. We should be manufacturing own own turbines for them. Let’s not sub-contract everything out to the Chinese. It’s stressing them out. They’re not used to having to treat their workers like human beings.( It’s freaking them out at the Fox Comm Factory!)So let’s take advantage of the situation, and get back into making things ourselves for our selves.

Or else, we’re gonna kill ourselves. It’s a national gut-check time

Dude! Save yer ass, save the planet.

Remembering the Wetlands

I love the wetlands. I used to love going out in the bayous and estuaries in my perouge, and trawling motor. I’d set trot lines for catfish, go crabbing, go crawfishing. I found oysters. I could never get enough of watching the graceful blue herons, gliding over the water. I would be at peace there, one with nature. I remember when I flew to New Orleans from Chicago, in 1977. We circled over the wetlands. It was mesmerizing.You used to be able to drive out to where Jean Lafitte’s fort used to be. We saw some of the other forts that were there. Within two years of my moving here, they were covered with water. I was grateful to have seen and walked across a piece of Ameican history, when I could.

But you can’t see them now. The Gulf has washed over them, as the wetlands have been destroyed, in favor of the oil companies with their barges. I live closer now than I did thirty years ago, to the Gulf, because of the erosion. I wanted to come back to see the beauty again first hand, and to show Wes how beautiful Louisiana really is

And now, BP has gone and ruined it. You evil, sorry rotten bastards, I hope you go bankrupt, and die in prison, you dirty rotten money grubbing life-hating, nature-abhorring bastards. I hope you rot in hell.

Multi-Strand Necklaces

Aventurine Dream Necklace

Nefertiti Necklace & Earrings Set

I enjoy the challenge of creating multi-strand necklaces. It doesn’t matter whether it’s graduated strands, or entwined, or braided. All necklaces are equations. The goal is for it to be balanced, hang the way it’s supposed to and lay against the body like it’s a part of the wearer. What’s done on one side must balance the other side. Not necessarily mirror, but balance, just like a quadratic equation. I relish trying to give the illusion that the laws of physics have been defied.

I suppose my favorites are the entwined strands with lots of different sized and different shaped beads.
These necklaces can be particularly aggravating. They can take several attempts at laying them out and doing a temporary stringing. I don’t do any knot-work until I have all the strands created, and I can see how it’s going to hang.

The next part is to determine with what to string the final piece on. That has a lot to do with what is in the necklace: large or small-hole beads, glass or metal, the quality of the holes in gemstones (are they well-drilled or are the edges ragged, with nasty little holes?). I have about eight or nine different spools of small cord, various thicknesses of silk, and several types of kevlar. I think I’ve got about three different types on linen

cord, too.

I have to file and smooth out the edges of the holes in some beads. I have a bunch of different kinds of bead reamers and pin-vise drill bits, probably fifteen or twenty. There are also several files of varying degrees of fineness. I have emery boards and a couple of diamond-grit nail files, just like are used for manicures.

Occasionally, I have to make to hole larger. This requires patience, and a steady hand, or a bead could be cracked. If they’re precious stones, screwing one up is a costly mistake. Lots of swearing, cursing and praying occurs at this time. (If I’ve got a lot of that to do, then everyone gets out of the room! The cats go hide under the bed. My husband suddenly finds something very fascinating online.)

Of course, graduated strands can also be a pain in the arse. Nefertiti proved to be quite tedious. I knew exactly what the beads wanted. But it took over twelve hours, before I got it right. All the gemstone beads were so not the same size and weight. The serpentine strand damn-near killed me! And with Aventurine Dream, I actually had to get out my bead ruler, and measure some of the beads.

They call football a game of inches. This is a game of millimeters, or less!

A Humorous Rant about the Live Feed

Okay, so I’ve been looking at the live feed from the Gulf all morning. I’m sorry, but it looks like a damn ultrasound.
I got just one question, when is the baby due?! Why don’t they just put it in some stirrups, for crying out loud. That’s what the doctor does. Maybe that’s what BP needs, and OB-GYN. Nurse, Get the forceps.
I just thought we needed a little levity at this point. This is just so godawful. However, I simply can’t go on like death warmed-over.
(Pause while I channel Sam Kennison.)
Why don’t we just jam Dick Cheney’s fat ass in there? I’d feel so much better. And, he would finally have served his country. Just a suggestion….

(Yes, the anti-depressants are finally working!)