Dreams again…my fingers are a mess, a clockwork quote pendant
The dream again. The plane as it lands slowly, the overpass climbs outside the window as it descends, the skid and the bump, the roar of the engine. A twilight street, stones underfoot, and someone familiar, yet also unknown, blurry around the edges. The ocean this time has turned blue. Was it always blue? Was I remembering wrong? Did green somehow distract me? A blanket, and a nest to rest my weariness in, to keep me safe and warm. And a longing for that (what? I don’t know, is the thing…) that could break my heart upon wakening – just – that feeling the same as the others, that there is something in this to know. If put to music this dream would be of Angels and Angles, that is the feeling of it – that space between time, “the purr of a pigeon to break the still of day” , “here’s a hand to lay in your open palm” as on we go drowning…But still, just a dream, that lingers long into the day and then fades out. One day I will stop its dreaming, or one day I will know where it begins. I hope the latter.
Yet another clockworks piece… This one entitled “Lost Time is Never Found Again” , a quote from Benjamin Franklin. I stamped the quote into the back of the pendant. It is all riveted together with sterling. I think my next pendant I may rivet with copper. I like sorting through all of the gears to find ones that may be pieced together, the contrast of metals, and working with areas of different elevation. I have tried to take photos that show these depths. Ta-da!
I have altered the pendant slightly from the next photo, I managed to carefully overstamp the letters where the rivets are, so now all parts of the letters are present in the engraving on the back.
I am waiting for only one more shipment of supplies to arrive to finish my necklace with the little Robin. Hopefully within the next couple of days. I am selling more and more gold pieces – which has been lovely. I love working with yellow gold, the way it feels under file, and the sheen when I polish it is just unrivaled. I hope to do more and more…Also was contacted by another large organisation to design custom pieces for them, which is lovely. They will also be carrying my retail lines in their different branches and storefronts – which is exciting. What also excites me is that I have never sought any of these clients out to date, they just keep finding their way to me…
Guitar playing is going along slowly but surely…though I am practicing like a fiend. I am determined to present myself this week at guitar lessons much improved over last week. I noticed a marked improvement today in my finger picking, which I have been practicing. The scales are helping my fingers to know more intuitively where to go. I played “Of Angels and Angles” today for th first time in a while, and because of the scale practice and the finger picking in House of the Rising Sun, I played it better than I ever could have dreamed of after such a long time without. It was like I had been practicing that particular song, when really it was just that my fingers are FINALLY becoming more educated and less ignorant and clumsy on the frets.
My fingers hurt though. Really hurt. I know I sound like a sissy, and maybe I am a little (then again not so much, I have a 6 inch diameter deep purple bruise on my thigh from my giant beastie of a horse wrestling with me while I was trimming her hooves, and I didn’t complain about that at all, and I didn’t complain when she slammed me accidentally into the fence either so…in fact, I went back and wrestled her again until she behaved herself, so there!.) So I have taken photos of my poor fingers to show you that there is in fact something somewhat worthy to complain about. They are, in a word, yucky. All blistery and calloused and seemingly perma-dented. I am hoping this will go away and I will not be left with horrible fingertips forever (please tell me I will have nice fingers again, even if you have to lie).
Of Angels and Angles by the Decemberists
There are angels in your angles
There’s a low moon caught in your tangles
There’s a ticking at the sill
There’s a purr of a pigeon to break the still of day
As on we go drowning
Down we go away
And darling, we go a-drowning
Down we go away
Away
There’s a tough word on your crossword
There’s a bed bug nipping a finger
There’s a swallow, there’s a calm
Here’s a hand to lay on your open palm today
As on we go drowning
Down we go away
And darling, we go a-drowning
Down we go away
Away
There are angels in your angles
There’s a low moon caught in your tangles