Metal Clay Mojo, also known as heaven for metal clay addicts, was exactly what I needed to spark my creative flame and fill up my well of happy vibrations. This gathering of about 75 metal clay artists was something special for sure.  The setting at a retreat center in rural Connecticut, and the particular people who were drawn to the event made for a magical week.

I can’t write about Mojo without recognizing Lis-el and Alexis Crowley.  Lis-el is a passionate metal clay maker and teacher with a drive to build communities. She started the Metal Clay Artisans Guild in Connecticut, which has grown to become a supportive and dedicated group of artists and friends. Without Lis-el, there would be no Mojo.  She envisioned the kind of conference she would want to attend, and she made it happen – twice!  I don’t know where she finds the energy, but I’m eternally grateful.

Throughout the conference, our days were a smorgasbord of presentations and demonstrations with plenty of time in between for hanging out and catching up with friends.

Each evening, there were creative activities to enjoy for fun and inspiration.  I dyed a silk scarf.  I’m sure you would never guess, but it’s purple!  We painted with alcohol inks on Yupo (synthetic coated paper).  I tried out the Pebeo Fantasy Prisme and Moon paints, which were super-cool. I see a Dick Blick order in my future.  Many participants generously gave their time to demonstrate different materials and tools each evening, and I appreciate every one of them.  I particularly enjoyed playing with porcelain clay with Noortje Meijerink, the master of combining porcelain clay and metal clay.  More about that in another post.

Susan Lumoto, the author of the Daily Art Muse blog, lives nearby on the Connecticut coast.  Susan and I became friends when she executed the re-design of this website last fall.  On the last evening of the conference, Susan stopped by for a visit.  I wanted to make sure she met and saw the work of the titans of the metal clay world that were gathered together.  I can’t tell you how thrilled I was when she featured Terry Kovalcik on her blog just a few days later. I’m hoping to see more posts about the other artists Susan met that night.

There were other factors that made this conference so special.  The Guest House Retreat Center is a lovely facility.  It’s not fancy and it’s not new, but it’s comfortable and well cared for.  Behind the center is a short walking trail that passes by a meditation labyrinth.  I enjoyed walking the path, setting my intention for the day and thinking happy thoughts about the people buzzing about inside the building.  One section of the walking trail is covered in moss and looks like something out of a fantasy film.  Magical!

I must also mention Carol Douglas and her fantasy meditations.  Throughout the conference, I had three opportunities to sit quietly with eyes closed while Carol spun a fantastical tale.  Each story was different and each was a journey.  Carol’s voice would lead me from one place and experience to the next, urging me along the way to fill in the details in MY version of the story.  These sessions were fun and inspiring, and I appreciate this gift that Carol shared with us so freely.

As a closing thought, I want to express my gratitude to all of the kind, generous, smart, funny people who gathered at Metal Clay Mojo.  I was grinning from ear to ear throughout the entire event, and that’s because you all bring out the very best in me.  I love my metal clay family and I look forward to our next opportunity to connect. I’ve found my tribe!

I arrived a couple of days before the official start of Mojo 2015 to participate in a pre-conference class with the incomparable Anna Mazon of Poland.  She has burst onto the metal clay scene in recent years with a series of stunningly detailed and beautifully designed pieces.  During this class, she taught her open work herbarium pendant project.

After this two-day, hands-on workshop, I was grinning from ear to ear and ready for the conference to begin.  With our free half day, my roommate, Pat Accorinti, and I headed to nearby Old Lyme to explore.  We found the Studio 80 + Sculpture Grounds, which features the work of Gilbert Boro and other artists.  Roughly 100 sculptures are spread out across 4.5 landscaped acres, which also includes Boro’s personal residence and working studio.

When we returned to the conference property with our bellies full of lobster rolls and a 12-pack of beer in hand for the fridge, the place was brimming with familiar faces and new friends. This was the absolute perfect beginning to my conference experience!

Many thanks to my partners in crime.  Evelyn Pelati Dombkowski worked side by side with me during the entire setup.  She seems to think it was worth it to learn about doing wholesale shows, but I’m quite sure I get the better end of that deal.  Kim Paige got roped into helping me in the final hours before the show opened.  She just stopped by to say hello, and she had no idea what she was walking into!  Vickie Hallmark, my “show buddy” was instrumental in making the foam core walls happen.  She inspired me to adopt the clean and open style that really helped the jewelry take center stage.  Sarah Sampson could have been resting, but instead she stuck with us and helped us get the walls installed.  During the show, my neighbors on aisle 700 were so friendly, kind and supportive.  We cheered for each other when we wrote orders, and entertained each other when the aisles were empty.  The people made the show a great experience.

When you arrive at the show, you find an empty space with gray drapes and a concrete floor.  In the shot above, we had started putting down the foam floor tiles.

Those clean white walls are actually 4′ x 8′ sheets of foam core.  Here, Vickie and I are wrangling one of them into place.  They were attached to the pipe structure with cable ties then the seams sealed with white artist tape.  Once we worked through the first couple of panels, we got into a rhythm, with each of us taking on a different step in the process.  Vickie, by the way, is masterful with a roll of tape!

Below, you can see things finally starting to come together.  This was about 5 hours before the Jewelry Preview opened to the buyers and I was starting to worry.  We had the walls  and lights up, and the Abstracta tables were almost put together, but we still had signage and displays to go.

And here is the finished booth.  It looks huge in this photo!  I love the clean lines and I adore the new earring trees.  I did not like how the jewelry displayed on the walls.  There are things I could do to make the wall displays work better.  One of the biggest issues is that it’s difficult to get the pieces lit up well when they hang flat against the walls.  I really like the Abstracta tables, so I’m  adding a couple more of these for the next show.  I’m also making improvements to the display fixtures that are on the tables.  You’ll have to check back after ACC in February to see the next iteration.

Many of you have asked how the show was, and I have to tell you that I don’t have an answer just yet.  I’ve got lots of follow up to do, and I won’t know until later in the year if this show was a winner for me or not.  For now, I’m a busy bee, gearing up for the American Craft Council (ACC) wholesale show in Baltimore, February 19-20.  Looking at my booth shot from BMAC gives me a boost of confidence that I’ll be ready for ACC in two weeks.  Yikes!  Two weeks!!!

This will be my first outdoor tent show EVER.  Most handcrafted sellers progress from selling online and at shows to selling through galleries.  I sort of skipped over those earlier stages and jumped straight into the wholesale/gallery world.  As a result, I’m a bit nervous about this show.  It will be really interesting to see how people respond to the work in person.  I plan to be like a sponge and soak up every bit of feedback, knowledge and understanding I can glean from this experience.  Won’t you come out so I can see a friendly face amidst the sea of strangers?

It all starts with my very own copper and bronze components, tumbled to a shiny finish and ready for color.  After that, I heat up the metal and layer on the dye oxide patinas.  These colorants meld into the pores and becomes one with the metal.  I like to start with a base color and then splatter in touches of a contrasting dye for a more interesting finish.  Next, I sand back each piece by hand to show off the raw metal in the high points and bring out the intricate textures.  Several coats of lacquer and a layer of museum-quality preservation wax lock the colors in place.  A final power buff melds all those layers together and give each element a deep, rich luster.  Truth be told, I skipped several of the more boring steps involved in a process that’s lengthy and laborious, but oh so worth it. Take a look at some of the finished designs that will come out of these components.

We started with an afternoon in Ogunquit, which is a sweet little seaside village.  The masses of tourists flocked to the shops and restaurants, or toasted themselves on the beach, but we were here for The Marginal Way.  This oddly named walking path hugs the rocky shoreline and delights the senses with beautiful wild roses that smell like heaven mixed with the ocean air.  After a satisfying stroll, we gorged on our first lobster of the trip before heading on up the road.

We spent two days exploring the Portland are, including  a climb up the Portland Observatory.  This 86 foot tower was built on Portland’s Munjoy Hill in 1807, and was used as a signal towner to communicate with incoming vessels and observe the weather patterns.  Today, you can walk up the 103 steps to the observation deck, learning more about the history of Portland and the tower along the way.  We were lucky to come on a clear day, so the views were fantastic from the top.  Portland is a great walking city, and we trekked through one distinct area after another, discovering funky shops, local eateries, public art, war memorials and a seaside park along the way.  We took the Downeast Duck, a quirky tour which covers the city’s highlights by both land and water in a custom-built amphibious vehicle.  It was a hoot, or should I say, a “quack”! Nearby, we checked out the Portland Head Lighthouse on Cape Elizabeth, an iconic and much-photographed landmark.  Portland was lovely, but we could have done without the 90 degree temperatures each day.  It was painful to check the weather and see that it was actually cooler in Orlando.  We slathered on the sunscreen and soldiered on in spite of the blazing sun.

Along the mid-coast of Maine is a series of peninsulas and inlets dotted with charming little towns and villages.  It was here that we experienced the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens, one of my personal highlights of the trip.  The main part of this attraction closest to the visitors center is all that a great botanical garden should be, with plants, water features, stone work and sculptures expertly arranged in a way that invites you to find a bench (in the shade) and take it all in.  In the five senses garden, visitors are encouraged to experience the sight, smell, feel, sound and taste of various planting areas.  While we didn’t actually get to taste, the kitchen garden section of this garden was really intriguing with creative approaches to growing food in small spaces.  Beyond the manicured plantings we discovered an extensive wooded trail system that seemed to be made just for us, and provided a shaded and private connector to the farther reaching sections of the gardens.

Our final destination was Bar Harbor and the Acadia National Forest.  I was nearly quivering with excitement as we approached the Hulls Cove Visitors Center to gather information, purchase a trail guide and get our bearings for the days ahead.   The weather was cold and misty, but armed with our rain gear, we were still able to get in a good bit of hiking on our only full day in the park.  We checked out the Ocean trail, where the pink granite cliffs and rock-strewn coast meet the crashing waves of the Atlantic.  The Jordon Pond Shore trail took us around the enchanting “pond”, which certainly looked like a sizeable lake to me. From here, the views of the Jordon Cliffs and the North and South Bubbles, two iconic mounded hills were perfect.  The next morning, we took the Bar Island trail, which is only accessible for about 3 hours at low tide.  It seemed like half the town turned out for the surreal experience of walking across a sandbar to Bar Island.  The receding waters reveal barnacle crusted rocks and provide a feast of mussels, crabs and snails for the resident seagulls.  A walk up to the summit of Bar Island provides a unique overlook of Bar Harbor, or at least it does if the fog and mist do not obscure the view.

On our second, and sadly final day in Bar Harbor, shortly after our Bar Island hike, the skies opened up and the rain started in earnest.  Our exploration of downtown was cut short when the rain actually soaked through our “waterproof” jackets and we found ourselves wet and chilled to the bone.  After a quick change to dry clothes we decided to take this opportunity to explore the less-traveled western half of Mount Desert Island by car.  This allowed a pilgrimage to Thurston’s Lobster Pound near Southeast Harbor.  This out-of-the-way destination was one of the culinary highlights of our vacation.  We chose our live lobsters from the tank right at the counter and saw them dropped into mesh bags destined for the giant steamer on the back deck.  OMG, this was the most tender, delicious lobster I’ve ever tasted, and by far the cheapest!  We devoured our lunch on an enclosed deck overlooking huge stacks of lobster traps right at the edge of the harbor.  No wonder that lobster tasted so fresh!

So now we’ve come back to reality.  If I had it to do over again, I would allow at least one more day in Bar Harbor.  I feel like the very best version of myself when I’m out on a wooded trail scrambling over rocks and tree roots, making my way to another amazing view.  We got in loads of walking every day, but I would have liked more time in the woods of Acadia National Park.  That corner of the world has a special kind of magic for me where I can feel my stress slip away and a sense of calm settle into my soul.  I suggest you start making plans now to visit coastal Maine.  You won’t be disappointed!

At the gathering after my dad’s funeral, my Aunt Elisabeth shared a little insight about him that just blew my mind.  Apparently, when Dad was a young man and it was time for him to choose a trade, he was encouraged to take up the family business and become a tailor.  But what did he really want to do?  He wanted to learn to be a goldsmith and make jewelry.  My heart nearly stopped beating when she spoke those words.

This revelation both thrills me and makes me incredibly sad.  It certainly helps explain why he was so fascinated by my jewelry work and so supportive of me following my dream.  I wish he would have told me himself.  I’m sure we could have had some interesting conversations on the topic.  It seemed that he never wanted to open a conversation about the past.  Maybe he knew we would ask so many questions, and he wasn’t interested in sharing the answers.  I’ll never know why he didn’t share this connection with me.  I’m happy to learn about it now, and I’ll remember it each time I sit down at my workbench.

This week we faced the painful challenge of saying goodbye to the kind, generous man I was lucky enough to call Dad.  He passed from this life peacefully with his three daughters standing strong together by his side.

Born in Vreden, Germany in 1939, Anton Abbing was the youngest of eight children and the only son. His family were tailors by trade, and at 18 Dad emigrated to the United States to find work in the garment industry.

In his new life in America, Anton became Tony as he learned to speak English flawlessly and worked hard to move up the corporate ladder.  By his early 30’s, he was the manager of the Somerset, KY Palm Beach Clothing Company plant, and had fathered two daughters, my sister Helena and me. His first marriage to my mom, Joy Lee, didn’t work out, but the two remained friendly and respectful of one another as they worked together to raise their girls. 

With Diane Daulton, Dad found love again.  They added my sister, Michelle, to our blended family, and once again, Dad was surrounded by females.  The young couple followed a series of career opportunities which moved them from Kentucky to California, Pennsylvania, back to Kentucky and then to Tennessee.

In Knoxville, Dad got into sailing and bought a boat.  This hobby was well-suited because he loved the outdoors, and needed to challenge himself.  While he did take the family out on the boat from time to time, it was mostly a solitary pursuit, which seemed to work out well for a man of few words.

During this same period, Dad got seriously into photography.  He built a darkroom in the basement and had the full backdrop and lighting setup for taking formal portraits.  He took my senior pictures, and I was so proud that my shots were different from everyone else’s.

When the clothing manufacturing industry unravelled in the U.S., Dad proved his resilience by moving south of the border to continue his career.  Dad and Diane spent three years in San Jose, Costa Rica followed by two years in Merida, Mexico.  With this new challenge, Dad learned to speak Spanish.  I loved how his subtle German accent would come through when he spoke this new language.

Some of my fondest memories of Dad are from a trip Helena and I made to Costa Rica.  The three of us travelled the country from the Pacific to the Caribbean Coasts.  We explored the rain forests and volcanoes of the interior, and we trekked the streets of downtown San Jose.  That trip marked a shift away from the parent/child dynamic to a more adult relationship with Dad, and I began to better understand his subtle humor and his gentle way of dealing with the world at large.

When they tired of the ex-pat lifestyle, Tony and Diane relocated to Naples, Florida.  Much to everyone’s surprise, they purchased a local coffee shop and became entrepreneurs.  Tony rekindled his passion for cycling, and could be seen decked out in full spandex making 40 to 50 mile bike runs with men less than half his age.

Tony’s next series of adventures began when The Men’s Wearhouse hired him to troubleshoot production issues around the globe.  His assignments took him to every corner of the world.  At a family gathering just a few months before his passing, we tried to count how many countries Dad had visited.  We all called out every country we could think of, and when we ran out of ideas, we got out a globe to help us think of more.  We finally counted to 65 countries that Tony had visited.  I learned my approach to travel from him.  Stay calm.  Go with the flow.  Enjoy the ride.

When Diane was diagnosed with breast cancer, Dad was so gentle and patient as her caregiver.  After 38 years together my dad struggled to find firm footing without his beloved wife, but he put on a brave face and stayed active.  That June, on his 70th birthday, Dad rode his bike 70 miles!  He was so proud of this accomplishment, and he seemed to be learning how to live his new life as a single man.

Later that same year, Dad’s health began to falter. He first suffered a stroke, then Parkinson’s disease, and finally melanoma that spread quickly throughout his weakened body.  The decline in less than four years from a vibrant, physically fit man to his death was shocking to see.  Through it all, he maintained his signature laid-back approach to life.  In short, he was a class act to the end.

He spent the last year at Dogwood Forest assisted living facility, with a constant stream of visitors.  My sister, Michelle, and her family live just 5 miles away, and she was there every day to check on him and take him out for dinner or lunch regularly.  He relished these outings, and enjoyed spending time with his three grandchildren, Andrew, Caroline and Elisabeth.   Helena and I made the trek from Texas and Florida as often as we could, and we enjoyed many good times together in this last year. The staff at Dogwood Forest loved my Dad, and often spoke of how sweet he was, always smiling and never wanting to be any trouble.

My Dad was a practical man.  He always thought he would die young, and he was perfectly fine with that outcome.  He never complained, and when he learned of his terminal cancer diagnosis just four months ago, he seemed content to know how his story would end.  The rest of us would have to process this development in our own way.  We would get no parting speeches from Anton. Even in death, it seemed like he was just trying not to be any trouble.

Dad didn’t really know how to relate to us as kids. He was so quiet that it was not easy to get close to him.  As we took on adult lives and careers of our own, our bonds to him grew.  Dad hesitated to offer advice, and often stated that he wanted us to make our own decisions.  He really felt that we knew best how to manage our own lives.  But, from time to time, he would share some words of wisdom.  One particular bit of advice helped me to overcome my fears and make a major life change.  Click here to read more about my dad asking “What are you waiting for?” and giving me the courage to make a big move in the game of life.  Go check it out and get another glimpse into the man he was.

So, this is goodbye, Dad.  May you have a safe passage to the other side.  You were a good and loyal man.  You loved deeply and were loved in return.  You will be missed.

Here are a few (mostly digital) shots of our 15 years together.  The shot in the lower right corner was taken just last week.  I think we’re holding it together pretty well, don’t you?  Click and then click again to see a larger image.

But I digress. This post is not about film versus digital.  It’s about my sweet husband on our 15-year anniversary, and my thoughts on staying happily married. If I may, I want to offer up some advice for those of you who have not yet found your life partner. First, choose wisely. This marriage thing is not always easy. Even the best relationships go through really tough times that will leave you wondering if you’ve made the biggest mistake of your life. This is an inescapable truth, regardless of how very much in love you feel the day you make your forever commitment. Second, find someone who makes you laugh. The ability to laugh together is a key to happiness, and can really help to overcome the challenges I mentioned above. Third, find someone who likes the same movies, music, sports, or whatever, that you do. You don’t need to be joined at the hip, and it works perfectly well for each partner to have interests and friends of their own. But I know that Jim and I share a common language and thousands of inside jokes because of our common tastes in music and movies. Also, I couldn’t care less about sports, and I found one of the few men on the planet who shares my apathy in that regard.  We generally operate at about the same speed, we like doing the same things, and we make each other laugh.  As a result, we continue to enjoy each other’s company immensely.

So, here’s to all you lovers out there, and here’s to my sweet soul-mate, Jim McManus.  I’m looking forward to our next 15 years together.  Remember, “The further we go, the happier we get.” (quote first seen at the FurtherFest in 1997 where Jim proposed to me).

I can hardly put into words how these festivals have changed my life.  We attended our first MagnoliaFest in October 1999 as newlyweds.  We’ve been back so many times I’ve lost count, and each time has been magical, restorative and just plain fun.  I’ve been exposed to bands and artists I would have never heard otherwise.  It’s not an overstatement to say that these festivals have radically altered the contents of my iPod.  My appreciation for fast-fingered bluegrass pickers and 3-part harmonies with a high lonesome lead continues to grow.

It’s not just the music that makes these festivals so special.  I love to camp and the park is situated along the Suwannee River.  That’s right, we get to camp on the river that inspired Stephen Foster’s classic, “Way down upon the Suwannee River.”  This place gives you a glimpse into the old Florida.  The biodiversity is incredible, with oaks, maples, pines, magnolias and others draped with enormous quantities of Spanish moss covering the land and lining the edges of the river.  This is a place where I can spend hours lying in a hammock, gazing into the canopy while my mind wanders.

Over the years, I’ve found that I’m graced with flashes of insight and moments of clarity during these festivals.  Solutions to problems I’m not actively thinking about pop into my head fully formed.  Visions of potential futures present themselves and it feels like I can try out different paths in my imagination.  Somehow, when I step away from my day-to-day life, get close to nature, and listen to lots of great music, pathways seem to open up in my mind that are not always available to me.  It’s truly magical.

The people also add so much to our festival experience.  Over the years, we’ve had romantic festivals with just the two of us camping together, and we’ve had groups of friends as large as 18 folks come out for the fun.  No matter the size of the crowd, we have a blast every time.

Walking around the festival is a visual feast as everyone digs out their tie-dye to let their freak flag fly. There are lots of kids running around, having a ball, and you often see multiple generations enjoying the music together.  The festivals attract young hippies, old hippies, and lots of folks that are nowhere close to hippie in their everyday lives.  I’ve never seen a fight break out, and everyone walks around smiling.  It’s one of the few places where everyone is just exactly where they want to be in that moment.  You can easily walk up to a total stranger and strike up a conversation.  It’s not surprising to see even the most famous artists wandering in the audience, enjoying the music and the scene.

This year, I spent so much time lounging around camp that I didn’t see as much music as a normally do.  Still, what I saw was phenomenal.  Highlights included Bonnie Raitt, Mickey Hart, Jimmy Herring, and the Del McCourry Band.  Donna the Buffalo did an awesome, but too short set that got us all up and dancing.  It feels to good to feel my joints loosen and my muscles stretch out as I jump and dance with a frenzied crowd of Donna fans, better known as “The Herd.”

By Sunday, sadly, it was time to pack it up and head home.  I had found a renewed sense of calm and optimism for the future.  I had re-connected with great friends and my sweet husband.  I was breathing deeper and seeing the world more clearly.  It’s so good to come back to center and I look forward to the next festival with great anticipation.