What Time is it?

Time is something I am very aware of. I often incorporate images representing time and the passage of time in my jewelry and writing. I am very aware of the changes that time inevitably leaves behind. I try to mimic what time can do to the metals I so love to work with. I treat copper, brass and silver with chemicals to speed up this aging process because I love the color, the texture, and the patina of time.

In the past few weeks, I’ve found myself wondering why the passage of time is so difficult for humans. Why we don’t see the beauty in ourselves as we age like we do in the precious metals, jewelry, and art we adorn ourselves with.

Aging is a natural, biological process we have absolutely no control over, no matter what Olay tells us. Aging is amazing. It is wondrous. It is mysterious. It is celebrated in ancient cultures all around the world, and yet here in the U.S. aging is considered a dread disease, a condition that is shameful, embarrassing, and completely intolerable.

The lengths we will go to try and hold back the hands of time. The millions, and millions of dollars spent. The torture, both psychological and physical, we are willing to endure for the illusion of youth. And for what? Approval? Acceptance? If so, from whom? To what end? We still age—we still die. There is no magic lotion or elixir that can stop any of this. We simply fool ourselves because—let’s face it—we’re certainly not fooling anyone else, no matter how tight the face, how huge the lips, how firm the breasts.

To maintain good health, well-being and to live a full life—where is the shame in that? Why do we see aging as a desecration instead of a celebration?

As a woman approaching her mid-forties, I too struggle with what the passage of time has given me. A bad back, skin that doesn’t exactly snap like elastic, and yes, my boobs have decidedly moved a bit South. But, I have learned more about myself in the past five years than I have in the past forty. I think clearer, I see more (especially with my new graduated lens eyeglasses), and for the first time in my adult life I am AWARE of who I am and who I want to be. I look in the mirror and, yes, I wince. Where is the girl who taught 10 aerobics classes a week for years? When did my pores get so huge? Why did no one tell me about back-fat and gray hairs in your EYEBROWS?

But, I have to laugh. I laugh (especially after a glass or three of Prosecco), at what women convince themselves they are getting away with. Cat-eyes and cliff-like cheekbones. Faces and lips so swollen with fillers and frozen with toxins they look like victims of some sort of terrible allergic reaction or unusual thyroid condition. Hair extensions, eyelash extensions, everything but what we really crave—a LIFE EXTENSION. Can’t get that at a salon or surgery suite.

But, we can choose to live our lives to the fullest. To treat every day as a gift, something to be treasured, filled with conscious action and given back to the world. To look outside ourselves, away from the mirror. Humans are blessed and cursed with self-awareness. What we choose to do with this awareness, I believe, is what defines our lives.

I want to try to become like the women I often write about. Beautiful, older women who not only embrace time, but revel in it. They do not fight the passage of time, they use it as a stage upon which to deliver the greatest of performances—the performance of their LIFE.

Beauty is defined by action, not by celebrity or pharmaceuticals. I choose to live a beautiful life. Would you care to join me? I certainly hope so.

NOTE: This post was inspired in part by the passages of Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson. Two iconic individuals that defined and fought what we consider “beautiful”--both have left us far too soon.

Please Pardon My Mess...NOT!

If you've read more than one of my artist interviews you will see that many of the questions I ask are often the same. I think it's facsinating to see the similarities and differences among artists regarding interests, influences, and style. One question I always ask is what type of studio they work in--Is it organized and neat, or controlled chaos? I initially asked this question just to assure myself that I'm not the only artist whose studio/workspace often looks like a bomb went off, and I am relieved to know that I have yet to interview an artist who keeps their workspace neat as a pin!

My husband, a brilliant scientist/mechanic/fixer-of-all-things finds my workspace horrific. No matter how technical or difficult a situation is for him (working up to his elbows in the guts of a tractor, or rebuiding a delicate parrot egg incubator) he somehow manages to keep his workspace organized and, dare I say, tidy. Every tool has it's place, whether in the box or laid out for immediate use. I've tried to explain the whole right-brain, left-brain artist thing to him, but I believe he just thinks I'm hopelessly disorganized.

BUT, we creative types know better, right? How can you really explain the artistic process? I try, I really do, to keep my space organized. Every few days (okay weeks) I actually sit down and clear my workspace. Tools put away, beads back into boxes and trays, bits of scrap metal into other storage, patinas and paint on the correct shelf, right down to the bare wood on my table-top. Then I get an IDEA...and the process begins. No matter how detailed a design is in my head, the process of laying it out and actually creating it is as organic as the design itself. I imagined turquoise, but what about carnelian or coral?? Lay that out. I need a opossum tooth, but found vertebrae I forgot I had. Lay that out. Beads, wire, beads, feathers, beads...lay them all out. Inevitabley, while pulling together all the elements I think I need for a design I find stuff I forgot I even had! Might as well lay that out, too. I'm sure you get the picture...the messy, messy picture.

Once, I knocked a small box of 3mm faceted gemstones off my table to the floor, where they scattered hither and yon. I found myself on my hands and knees, flashlight held tightly in my teeth as I searched for anything shiney. I found the gems, and a package of pheasant feathers, a bone moon face, several long-lost silver beads and a length of sterling silver chain I had given up ever finding again. And that was just in the immediate area around the chair I sit in...Ah, the thrill of the hunt!

In all honesty, I LIKE having a crazy workspace. It's like a freaky treasure hunt, and for the most part I do know where everything is....sort of. I like looking at the chaos and digging a design out of it. Where in nature do you ever see neat and tidy?? Look out your window--unless you live in a formal English garden, everything you see is gorgeous, unplanned, natural chaos. I say, REVEL IN IT!!!