... or round my neck. Same difference.
Over the past year I have become a fan, to the tune of a necklace and four pairs of earrings, of elisem
's jewellery. It's absolutely beautiful, but I half-think the best part of it is the names. When I wear Miss Prometheus Jones, I presume
, for example, there is the thrill of OMG I am wearing a shooting star
, but there is also the resonance of the myth, the glamour of the have you met Miss Jones
echo, and so on, and putting them on reminds me of all that and makes the day better before it's even started. I bought myself Lipstick Mermaids
as a reward for finishing a particularly tricky phase of the mermaid project, and have been wearing it more or less constantly (probably at least twice a week) ever since.
It hadn't really occurred to me before I came across EliseM that one could
name jewellery. I used to do quite a lot of beading, but I'd never named anything. The first piece I did name was Snow in April
- my first adventure with crimps, and I was quite pleased with the floaty effect, but it didn't turn out quite how I'd meant it.
I got my bead box out the other day. I'd been invited to a hen night and all the guests were asked to dress in blue. I had a blue necklace, but no earrings that would go with it. Earrings are, thank goodness, pretty quick to make. Because of the evening's blue theme and its location in Southampton, these became Amphitrite's Night on the Tiles
My next piece was a present that I've completely failed to post as yet, so I won't talk about it. It has a name, though.
Now we get to the interesting part. The other site that has been particularly useful to me recently is Havi Brooks' The Fluent Self
, which is full to bursting with helpful concepts and beautiful ideas. These include, every Friday, a salve. A couple of weeks ago
, the salve was this:
Here is a Reusable Hug Box.
It is a tiny box with a heart on it and inside is a beautiful piece of paper that says HUG.
It is a message wrapped like a gift. It is a moment of remembering that you are loved, still loved, more loved, as if all the love from all the different sources, no matter how forgotten, can suddenly land. In pure form, without expectations, rules or desires, just love.
And this, combined with the wonderful store of Future Hugs
and the new idea of wearing the jewellery with the qualities in it, became The Box of Future Hugs
Many of the beads have hidden meanings. All the love, from all the different sources, indeed. The smiley faces, for example, are for my little brother, and also for how I am smilier than I think I am, and the people who told me so. The medal of the BVM was given to me by a French pilgrim in St-Jean-Pied-de-Port, very near the beginning of my pilgrimage to Santiago. There's one with a marking that looks a bit like a pineapple, to remind me of Mike. There are little seed beads there left over from making my wedding dress. The box really does say HUG in it, though you can't really see it:
The other thing that is really incredibly significant to me is Havi's wish for I See the Secret Holiness of Everything
. That, and this
, is what this necklace is about:
It's very hard to wrap a heart. I feel as if that ought to mean something.
I notice, too, how very satisfying it was to make these, and how it didn't seem to matter that my mind is playing up and I'm not feeling very loved or remotely mystical. Working with physical objects, getting away from words for the moment, was very helpful. No matter that my brain is telling me that everybody hates me (or, when I pointed to evidence that actually they didn't, 'well, they might not now, but they will do when you unleash a plague of rabid mermaids on the world'), deep down inside I know that I am loved, and in the choosing and twisting and snipping I sneak past the voices that tell me I'm not. And reality doesn't cease to be holy just because I can't see that at the moment. Wrapping a fragment of broken red plastic in gold wire reminds me of that. The day will come when I just have to stop and look
at it, because it will be so wonderful.