Goodness, what a whirlwind six weeks this has been! We have been in our beloved Maine since the end of September, and it has been a blur of packing and unpacking and packing, head colds and anime, anxious cats and revisiting our favorite parts of the state.
Everything is still in a state of flux here, but I was able to carve of a small space for my metalsmithing tools and gemstone cabinet. I thought perhaps I would take a few months to rest, to gestate, to build up potential energy for a big special collection I have only just barely been able to keep secret.
Yet here I find myself, with a tiny flock of ravens scritching at the windows anxious to be let out into the world. I was unable to keep my hands away from sharp, unforgiving metal, the smooth, cool surfaces of gemstones, a sketchbook blooming with ideas despite the frequent frosts we’ve already had here.
And so, the ravens. The moment the trees lost their leaves and I began to see the silhouettes of the crows perched in the birch stand near the house, I threw myself into the studio and coaxed the ravens out of metal and stone. I make them every year, and I knew I just couldn’t leave them tucked away until next year. My autumn would not be complete without a studio full of noisy, rustling, clacking ravens.
They have all been claimed (within thirty minutes of their release in the shop!) and now I am carefully wrapping them in paper, tucking them in cozy cardboard and cotton boxes, and tossing them off into the gray afternoon so they may wing their way to their intendeds.
And now, I find myself already working on my annual Redux offering.
Redux is a special collection I do in November where I select a few pieces from the previous year’s work and remake them for those who either missed out or would like a special holiday gift. This year, I will be making a few bowl fulls of Honey Necklaces and Apiary Rings. Since I won’t be making any Honeybee pieces in the coming year (2020) I thought it only right that they be the focus of this year’s Redux.
What better way to spend a late autumn than with the glow of citrine?
