Eleven: Wings of Hope and Sorrow

I've decided to try to post a bit about my jewellery projects on Mondays. (The phrase "Metal Mondays" popped into my head last week - it's a bit cutesy but, as Dave Barry would say, would make an excellent name for a rock band). I have another blog for jewellery, but it has become more of an archive of gemstone information than an artistic outlet, and since much of my jewellery focuses on the interpretation of textile techniques such as crochet, knitting and weaving in precious metal, I thought it would not be out of place in a fiber arts blog. Plus, I like the idea of self-imposed deadlines to keep me focused and productive - my Saturday and Sunday projects are turning out to be great fun, and very creatively stimulating. This piece, crocheted in fine silver with Gaspeite and Sleeping Beauty turquoise, sat on the bench for three weeks, waiting for a clasp and a final polish. (It would likely have remained unfinished until after the move if I hadn't started this Monday project - it's working already!) I was moved to create it after learning of the Cormorant crash back in mid July. I can't say as I intended any specific representation, I was just in a heightened state of emotion and reflection and felt compelled to deal with that by creating. Design is most often a mundane process of drawing and calculating, and patiently redoing, but every so often the barrier between intent and execution disappears and what appears in the hands flows directly from a subconscious place of truth. This was one of those moments - I was absolutely certain of the lines and the colours, and lost myself in the making without giving intellectual thought to symbol or meaning. When I finished though, I realized that I had created a bird, graceful in flight, teardrops streaming from its wings, and carrying green new life in its feathers. I felt a sense of closure and peace, as though what needed to be said was done.