From leaf to metal...

Many of you have asked me how this:

turns into this:

Last summer, a friend commissioned me to make a candle lantern as a wedding gift. I had never worked on anything that large, and so I decided to document the process in pictures. Basically, it's the same process I use for making the Forest Floor jewelry.

I pick the leaves as I walk on our property during the summer and fall. They're pressed and dried between sheets of blotting paper and stored in large frames built for me by a friend. When I want to print the leaves onto metal, first I arrange them on a sheet of copper or sterling silver:

Once I have them arranged to my liking, I run the metal and leaves through a rolling mill.

The intense pressure of the rollers captures even the most delicate veins in great detail. The leaves are destroyed in the process, so every piece is completely one of a kind.

After washing the leaves and sap off the metal, I decide on the general shape for the piece. This usually involves using my jeweler's saw to create detail along the edges, and in the case of the lantern, piercing holes for the light to shine through.

Next, I file the rough edges.

Here are the six panels for the candle lantern laid out in order:

and after the liver of sulfur patina had been applied:

For the lantern, I "stitched" the panels together with sterling silver wire. This technique resulted in a flexible but sturdy construction and a rustic look.

And finally, lights out:

Such a fun project; I learned a lot while making it. And I hope you've enjoyed seeing how leaves give their shape (and spirit) to metal.

Show more than tell...

A small confession: I've been trying to write this blog entry for days. I finally realized I'm over-thinking what I need to say. In fact, perhaps it would be better to show you than tell you. So here are a few pictures of jewelry available in my Artfire studio now.

This copper pendant reproduces in minute detail every vein and crack in a leaf I picked up after it had already been on the ground for awhile this past fall. I love the autumn color of the copper, and the rolled edge of the pendant evokes the way leaves curl up and dry out after they've fallen from the trees. With the handwrought sterling silver chain, the necklace is approximately 20 inches long.

These Starburst Earrings are slightly domed sterling silver and copper disks with hammered decorative lines. This is the larger size, with the upper disk approximately 3/4" in diameter. I also make them smaller, with the top disk approximately 1/2" in diameter. And just for fun, there's a swingy version with the copper disk on top in both sizes. You'll find the pair in the picture in the shop now; please get in touch if you're interested in any of the other versions or in a pendant.

This Forest Floor cuff, in oxidized sterling silver, includes raspberry, high bush cranberry, willow, chokecherrry, Siberian pea and other leaves, all gathered on our 10 acres this past summer. The leaves overlap each other, and the edges are sawn a little ragged to mimic the nibbling of insects and squirrels. A bit of decorative hammering adds texture and interest. Of course, it's one of a kind, as the leaves are destroyed during the process of imprinting the metal.

When you look out the window as you're flying into Fairbanks, you notice scribbles and curlicues carved into the land by the Tanana River. That's the inspiration for this simple Alaska Riverbend pendant made of hammered copper on a satin or suede cord with sterling silver lobster claw clasp.

Next up on the blog, more show and tell: A photo essay on how real leaves are transformed into jewelry for the Forest Floor series.

The missing link

You know, I know that I'm an exceedingly lucky person. I love what I do, and I love where I do it. Even after living in Alaska for 14 1/2 years, I am still facinated by its utter difference from Georgia, where I grew up, and I know there are few other places in the world where I might encounter lynx or bears or moose on my own property. The Aurora Borealis still stops me in my tracks — freezing or not — and the Midnight Sun still gives me a huge energy boost.

Of all the "jobs" I've had — from newspaper reporting to state government work to selling office furniture to providing respite care for elders — making jewelry is what I choose to do for the rest of my life. I can't imagine ever growing tired of it or disliking it or wanting to give it up.

Still, I sometimes feel there's something missing.

And this year, I've finally realized what that missing link is. It's you!

I spend almost all my time alone, which does suit me. I like quiet — or I like cranking up the Talking Heads or B52s on the stereo. (Egads, I just dated myself. Most of you will have no clue who those bands are.)

You've heard the phrase "spark of creativity." Well, it's hard to create a spark in a vacuum.

At the new year, I decided I wanted to break out of my shell a little bit and work on developing new relationships. And like magic, as soon as I made the decision, opportunities began coming my way. (The blog has helped a lot.)

I'm thrilled to have made new connections with people who've bought my jewelry, with people who've admired my jewelry, with other artists and artisans. I've got a great email correspondence going with a couple of you, I've spoken with several of you on the telephone, and I've met more than a handful of you for coffee and conversation. One of you generously offered to help me make a banner for the blog (which is progressing beautifully), and someone else is considering photographing my jewelry on live models.

And to a person, you have inspired me. You've given me new ideas and suggestions, you've asked me for a special piece for a special occasion, you've shared your reactions to my work and even pushed me to try something different. Every time I meet one of you — whether in person or by email or on the phone — I come away with renewed energy, eager to get to the bench and make something new.

Thank you!

This Saturday (the 25th) I hope I'll meet lots more of you at the Spring Break-Up Bazaar on Eielson Air Force Base. If you're in Fairbanks, it might seem like a long way to drive, but hey: It's gorgeous out there, and all of us artists are finally stirring from the winter doldrums, brimming with enthusiasm and creative spark. Please stop by my booth and say hello!

If you're nowhere near Eielson, how about Homer or Denali or Anchorage? I recently sent a small shipment to Fireweed Gallery; I'm working on the first order of the season for the Magic Carpet at Denali (opening in mid-May); and I'll be sending a package off to Portfolio in Anchorage next week (after a bit of a hiatus, so this is particularly exciting).

If you're nowhere near Alaska, I've got some ideas percolating in my head that should come to fruition after the bazaar, and I'll be taking photos and writing about them here. You can always get in touch if you see something you like. Please do! Because I've just realized how much I need you all.

Here's a hint of one of the new things: A couple of weeks ago I picked up a book on metal embossing techniques, and I was so enchanted with it that I started looking on-line for some embossing tools. I almost decided not to fiddle with it because the new tools seemed expensive, but how's this for serendipity: I found a set of antique Japanese (I think) embossing tools in a lovely case on eBay and got them for a song. Here they are:

From Tin Cup Designs Handwrought Jewelry

From Tin Cup Designs Handwrought Jewelry

After this week, I hope I'll have time to play with them. My ideas about how to incorporate embossing into my jewelry are a bit hazy at the moment, but the seeds are there, and I can't wait to see what blossoms.

Happy Spring!

(P.S. Wow... It's been a month since I posted, and I have a lot more to share. So next time, look for an update on my purchases for the Stone Soup Challenge, plus a couple of new designs.)

Longing for summer in Alaska...

It's March. We've still got two or three feet of snow on the ground, depending where you step. It is warmer: Yesterday it was about 27 degrees F. We're gaining nearly seven minutes of daylight every day, and our days are already nearly 12 hours long.

But I'm impatient. Yes, I could be out there on my snowshoes, enjoying the clean sharp air and looking for animal tracks and birds. I do love the way snow makes various things — say, a stack of summer tires or a clump of small spruce trees — look like cupcakes with icing or sugared donuts.

But dang it, I'm ready for some color! I want leaves and flowers and butterflies!

When I'm feeling like this, the best thing I can do is pull out the dried leaves my friend and I collected over the past couple of years and make a Forest Floor cuff. Like this one:

From Tin Cup Designs Handwrought Jewelry

When I'm working on one of the Forest Floor pieces, I'm not just shaping metal. I'm enjoying summertime in Alaska.

Did you know that scent is considered the strongest trigger for memory? The scent of the leaves, stored in layers of blotting paper, is fresh and earthy — and when crushed in the rolling mill, the leaves' sap and oils perfume the studio. Instantly, I'm back in the woods, kneeling on thick moss, watching the sun shine through the canopy of birch leaves, picking berries.

Here are just a few of the plants I use in my jewelry. All of them live on our 10 acres in Two Rivers.

This is Alaskan Dogwood. (Being from the South, where dogwood is a tree, I laughed when I first saw this tiny earth-hugging bush. But it makes a gorgeous carpet of green in summer and crimson in fall.)

From Tin Cup Designs Handwrought Jewelry

This is High-Bush Cranberry, good for jelly.

From Tin Cup Designs Handwrought Jewelry

And poisonous Red Baneberry.

From Tin Cup Designs Handwrought Jewelry

Here is Fireweed, the barometer of our summertime. As the blooms progress up the stalk and finally burst into puffy white seed fluff, we know summer is going and it's time to batten down for winter again.

From Tin Cup Designs Handwrought Jewelry

And here are our lovely Alaskan Wild Roses. They seem to bloom all at once, and only for a few days. They're everywhere; the air is sweet with them. And after the roses come the brilliant red and orange rosehips.

From Tin Cup Designs Handwrought Jewelry

You'll find these and many others in the Forest Floor pieces.

Just as in nature, no two cuffs or pendants or pairs of earrings will ever be the same because the leaves are crushed and destroyed in the embossing process.

After the metal is embossed, I saw the edges a bit and file them. I like to make the pattern irregular, like the bug-bitten edges of some plants and trees.

From Tin Cup Designs Handwrought Jewelry

The leaves always shift a bit while going through the mill, so I'm never sure what I'll see until it's done. There's always a "flaw," where the metal slipped too much and the pattern didn't take or where the leaves cracked or moved too far apart. This actually delights me.

These are opportunities to play, serendipity instead of mistake. In the cuff you see here, a slight diagonal space along the bottom edge didn't take the leaf pattern at all. Wonderful! It gave me an opportunitiy to hand engrave cross-hatching there. The straight lines contrast nicely with the irregularities of the natural forms, don't you think?

Now you know that each Forest Floor piece carries with it the reality of nature in Alaska, the memory of specific summer days and specific places, and a little bit of serendipity. What a wonderful mix!

Leaf Moth pendant in progress

Here's a first quick look at a copper and sterling silver Leaf Moth Pendant. I've figured out an interesting way to convert it to a brooch and hope to work on that tonight. This made me so happy, though, that I just couldn't wait to share it. It's going to be awfully hard for me to sell it. If you have the least bit of interest in it, start sweet-talking me now. *grin*

From Tin Cup Designs Handwrought Jewelry