Once in a Blue Moon

This is a collection that celebrates the events that do not happen every day, every week, every month.  Those unique times you stumble across, often not realizing it until they are already sweet memories.

I'm opening the shop at 8:34pm EST, tonight, in honor of this rare moonrise over my home. 

Every piece being offered up has been made by my two hands, while they may be echoed, they will never be cloned.  They are their own, and are ready to be shared with you.


Each piece has been drawn, hammer-tooled, dyed, stitched or woven by my hands.  These hands will never come again to this earth.  They are different hands today from yesterday, and will keep changing tomorrow. 

This work holds pieces of me within them, full of good wishes, calm, and a dash of sass (because, if you're making something, it should have at least a little sass, especially if it's a fox cuff!).

A Blue Moon is an extra full moon, either within the calendar month (as it is tonight) or the third full moon within a four moon season. The first full moon this July rose on the second, and so, we have a modern Blue Moon tonight. 

The Summer

Lush, with greens growing every which way. 

Bright, with sunlight filtering through the leaves of the trees that shelter our home. 

Deep, roots digging down in search of water. 

Growing tall with the summer, the plants grow with abandon. 

 

Wool & Silk yarn, knitted, felted and dyed. Embellished with cotton thread, glass and stone beads, with a dangling piece of sea glass plucked from the shore of the Irish Sea years ago.  

 

Just for fun, I've started weighing the cocoons.  This one started out just 8 grams (0.3 ounces).  Now finished, it weighs 35 grams (1.25 ounces)!

Gather together

Welcome to the Summer Solstice collection.  A selection of work that is born from the heat.

A celebration of  the sticky arms of watermelon eating, ice cold drinks and glowing humidity. 

The longest day of the year

 

The flicker of fireflies

(green cocoon)

 

The buzz of cicadas. 

 

The grumbling thunder storms.

 

The beads of sweat, dripping down your chest as you lay still on the hammock.