The latest excitement? 

Once again I am partaking in York Open Studios. Join me at York Cemetery on Cemetery Road.

The opening evening is 6-9pm, Friday 17th.

Or come along on either of these weekends-

Sat 18th April10 - 6

Sun 19th April 11 - 5

Sat 25th April 10- 6

Sun 26th April 11 - 5

I am currently surrounded by piles of jewels, trying to come up with the sort of exciting fresh designs that set me work apart from other jewellery. Of course, I have more ideas than a lifetime of making could create, but I hope to offer a small cross section of delights. I'm particularly delighted to be presenting for the first time a collection of work made from ancient Egyptian glass  beads. It's such a thrill to wear 1600  year old baubles especially when they look surprisingly contemporary, 

abacus+ great grandfathers scarf = necklace

Always at the back of a wardrobe or the bottom of a box-too precious to bin, too decrepit to use 

-  we all have something like this: be it a family heirloom or something to ignorant eyes humble but to one's self rich with childhood memory. I've had my great grandfathers tattered silk scarf since I was a teenager, when I wore it once or twice. Pleasingly, it sets off my skin tone rather well,  so I have been wanting to make it wearable again for some time now.

But how?

 Today, inspiration struck. 

A Chinese abacus, its apple red wooden beads trapped in the black lacquered frame, challenging me to make something of it as it perched incongruously on the baby clothes stand at a local charity shop.

There were splinters and some hammering, but the beads were gleaned, berry-like, and ready for their new life. I ruthlessly forced the fine, rapidly shredding silk through the generously sized holes; the design dictated by how far along I could push each bead. A double knot at the back and it was ready to wear. 

I am pleased to find my scarf/necklace/necklarf now looks rather lovely in my hair and I might even wear it round my neck. Four generations and 100 years later, the scarf comes full circle.

T e a c h  u s  t o  c o u n t  o u r  d a y s                                                  p s a l m 9 0 v 1 2

the heart in the woods. 16th March project

Serendipity.

Fortuitous happenstance.

 {A term apparently first coined by Horace Warpole,

the grandfather of Gothic literature}

My story begins on an uncommonly hot and sunny Spring day. I was ambling along the Tadcaster Road en route to delivering my Grand Depart creation for the York Open Studios launch exhibition. To my left was the huge expanse of grass that is the Knavesmire. In front of it is a sort of stray or chase- knarly old trees and uneven grassy ground striped with well trodden dirt paths. This glorious slice of nature gradually sags onto the pavement that signifies suburbian York- an uneasy rip tide of town and country where mud and leaf encroach on concrete. It was in this very dirt, dear reader, that I stumbled across a heart.

So far, so Snow White.

The heart- a modern, tacky affair of sterling silver inset with cubic zirconia, was perfectly preserved.

I knew at once that I'd use it in one of my creations.

As I walked I wondered whether it would be an idea to let serendipity take over completely for a day as guest designer. The challenge would be to use only materials sourced and stumbled upon on that one day, such as this necklace I'd bought that same morning from a charity shop.

On my return journey I headed into the parkland. I gathered wood and branches and seed heads.

The final edit?

A simple lichen covered branch, vividly lime and verdigris and chartreuse. I mounted this on chains from the necklace, adding a glowing orange jewel salvaged from my earlier purchase.

The piece feels slightly anarchic in its doomed delicacy.

The same sort of hedonistic excess as wearing an orchid to a ball - it starts to decay as soon as you put it on - a transfer, a transplant, of beauty. And to me, that is the opposite of todays throwaway costume jewellery culture, where fashion or cheap fabrication soon invalidate or outmode. With one, its the thrill of Cinderella's sartorial timebomb, the beauty being in the brevity, with the other the shine goes out not with a bang but a whimper.

second time around

So...whatever did I finally end up making for the York Open Studios Launch exhibition in honour of the Grand Depart*?

 

A pendant made up of fortuitous finds and the kindness of friends-the two suppliers my craft.

 

The casing from a watch, donated by Fi, was my starting point. Prising out the watch movement itself, endlessly experimenting with what could fill its place -spring breeze wafting through my open window as I try to keep track of the watch hands that I will eventually sprinkle in amongst the tiny golden seed beads from Margaret, who remembers buying them as a child with her mother in the 1930s.

 

A plastic jar top from the 1950s is liberated from the paste jar that I found in Newcastle a decade ago to become both 16 spoked wheel and a clock for the optimist-the promise of more time.

Also from Newcastle,  fragments of an antique brass bracelet, long bereft of its sparkling stones.

A single Victorian Whitby jet bead, the jewel of Yorkshire, carved in the age of the beginning of the bicycle.

And to tie the two countries of this year's Tour de France together, a swallow in flight, found 5 years ago at a flea market in Paris amidst a handful of river pearls and decayed brooches.

 

I have called it Second Time Around-the idea of laps in a race and of a whirring clock, also of New Beginnings and up-cycling.

Perhaps I should have called it Time's Winged Chariot, having emblems of all three!

 

A work of serendipity, it is chance's compass-shake it to see where the watch hands and beads land-a snow globe, a pinball machine, the gold like the sands of time in an egg timer. A charm for the fidget, a medal for the competitor, a pendulum to power the wearer.   

*see it now at the Blossom Street Gallery till mid April-

price £68

The Grande Depart

 

The pendant once held the memory of this soldier

Now it frames a fragment of an ancient brooch-a catcher of future memories, perhaps?

The remnants of an opal ring swing from a humble chain
upcycled from the closing of a York shoe shop!



Momento mori

 Bracelet for a traveller?

The journeying swallow and a chunk of bamboo coral

gleaned at York car boot sale!

a heart locket gains wings as memories fly

 

THE GRAND DEPART

New beginnings.

 Adventuring.

 Starting afresh.

 This year the Grand Tour comes to Yorkshire for the first time.

Also this year I have started a fresh adventure of my own-exhibiting my upcycled antique jewellery with York Open Studios.

These two ventures will collide [hopefully not literally] when I show a be-spoke [sorry] creation at the preview exhibition in honour of the famous bicycle race here in York.

Of course, the competitors will be 'just passing through' - fittingly, the name of the exhibition is 'The Grand Depart'; this sparks bittersweet imagery of migration, sojourning, the restless nature of the traveller, perhaps even Peter Pan's 'awfully big adventure' - that final great journey. 

 The question is...what to show?

I did consider making jewellery from broken bicycles, but that seems too obvious and not my style. Perhaps I shall make a fascinator fit for watching races of wheel or hoof? Maybe a necklace fit for a traveller, ready to be embellished with new trinkets and charms gleaned on the journey; a work in progress, as we all are [art mirroring life and all that jazz].

The truth is, every bit of my jewellery is a new beginning, both in terms of being a unique, fresh, new design, and also because the creations arise, Phoenix like, from the jettisoned and treasured of the near and distant past. Because the start of something is always the flipside of the end of something else.

 And I, for one, am all the happier festooning myself with silver linings as I leave the clouds behind.     

Starting a micro-business: mice v elephants

Sick of Christmas yet?

Bah Humbug! Ebenezer Scrouge's most infamous line! 

Even his name sounds bitter. But did you know the name Ebenezer is actually from the Bible, and means, rather  beautifully,  something like, 'this far He has carried me/ helped me'. In the old testament, the ancient Israelites would pile up stones to commemorate certain acts of grace. When they crossed the Jordan into the Promised Land, the stones they used came from the river bed that God had dried up for them whilst they crossed (see Joshua chapters 3 + 4). Imagine being a traveler and happening upon a mound of huge boulders, smoothed by the river bed. You'd be puzzling over how on earth they got there!

I'd like to take some time to pile up the rocks of testimony I have gleaned whilst walking through a year of impossibilities. I could only have gained them by taking the plunge...

* running a micro-business is not like building a normal business. You cannot plan out a kitchen table enterprise with spreadsheets, business plans and cash flow forecasts. There are too many variables. If a traditional business is an elephant-stable, powerful, functional,  with visible, powerful assets at its disposal (ivory), then a micro-business is more like a mouse. Tiny, common, with limited growth potential, barely visible, no assets, certainly no match for an elephant; but then it doesn't try to be. On the other hand its weaknesses are its strengths: too small to be trampled by those elephants, agile enough to survive on its flexibility, it doesn't need much to keep it going,  and unlike an elephant it does not leave destruction in its wake. It is a different creation for a different purpose.  
Lesson one: you can't predict but you can adapt.

*Every worthwhile enterprise this year has been the result of a combination of word of mouth,  friendship and trying new things. Often unsuccessful things.  Conclusion: friendship is vital,  you can never socialise too much,  and there are no failures,  only stepping stones.  
Action: do something, anything. Just start.

*Review, review, review. As soon as you realise it isn't working, drop it like its hot. This isn't just a simple profit/loss calculation- some projects are like living business cards (see stepping stones in point 2), so you'll need to weigh up the pros and cons. If you can't find a way to make it work, let it go.

*VISIBILITY. Mice: they all look the same and tend to blend in. You only know they are there if they a. Move or b. Squeak. This means social media,  multiple outlets/platforms for your work, plus a
U S.P. 

Know what makes you stand out.

*It takes time. And I don't mean simply input+wait=output. It takes time to teach yourself how to build a business. It takes time to work out what works, to hone your product or service. It takes as much time as it takes for you to learn to adapt.

*Everyone needs company! I tried working for myself exclusively,  and found, to my surprise, that I'm not cut out for it. Its so lonely and isolating! Accidentally landing  a part time job at an art gallery ( through friendship,  word of mouth and trying new things) was just what l needed. I realise that even if my own enterprises brought in enough for me to live on,  l'd still rather have at least one day a week working with others. How great it is to have a God who already knows what I need before I do!

* Practical realisations: my overheads are massively higher than I thought they were. Also in terms of stock,  I need at least 10 times as much as I plan to sell. 

Because  products describe and promote a business,  and 2 necklaces in a cabinet look rather lame.
Plushness and abundance are the aims.
Also, if you don't ask you will never get a yes. Pick outlets wisely, and approach them when you and your product are absolutely ready. You will need to step out. You can only test the water by getting wet. Those old testament adventurers didn't step into a dry river-God expected them to trust Him by walking straight in. I'm thankful my steps have been preserved and led with my God beside me and ahead of me.

In conclusion,  a micro-business isn't about rapid growth. If I was looking for big profits l would find a gap in the market,  raise funding,  and work off statistics as I built my business. Its more about finding a way,  or many ways,  to do what I love and to achieve a measure of self sufficiency and  satisfaction.  My friends become customers, and my customers, friends.

l may be a mouse,  but you gonna hear me roar, in the words of Katy Perry. Or at the very least,  blow my own trumpet. 

Happy new year and I hope 2014 brings with it the courage to take the first step towards your dreams. 

God bless us every one!

cornucopia

There are some things I just don't want to part with. I've spent years collecting the bits needed to make it, and ages working on the finished piece, and its all turned out beautifully. I know I'll never make anything quite like it again, as I have used unique antique and vintage parts to create it. Its sad to let go but brilliant that someone else is now enjoying it-like Pinochhios wooden boy it only gets to livw if you let it go. 

I feel this way about' Cornucopia', a pendant necklace made from the skeleton of a 1950's brooch:  all  in gold coloured metal, with an array of bright colours bursting out of every available nook and cranny of the leaf like frame.  The oldest material I've used is Victorian branch coral-lobster hot in colour and from Italy. There are vintage glass beads, semi precious stones, flowers and a general riot of the kind of colour that just can't help but brighten things up. I've used a mix of bold primaries and slightly more muted tones to keep it tasteful and complex, and to ensure it goes with absolutely everything. 

Want it? Go to the etsy shop Moth and Magpie by clicking on the etsy badge to the right. Or we could talk about tailoring something especially to your taste and colour preference, maybe even using your own old jewellery. Then, as well as it being something precious in itself, it will be extra-special to you right from the start, plus you get a bespoke jewel that you have helped to dream to life. 

Email ruth@mothandmagpie.com or call 07882509493 to discuss making something from scratch.