Last Words (ish)

One of the pendants I have created is essentially a time capsule... miniature photographs and a letter to the future contained beneath an acrylic dome.

For interests' sake, here is the text of the letter I'm enclosing...

My name is Allison Louise Bell. Or at least it was. Does one keep one’s name, once one is no longer alive?

This capsule contains parts of me; things that made up my life... memories in the form of photographs and journal entries… aspects of my DNA, left by the touch of my fingers upon the surface of this pendant. I made it, after all.

It is strange, writing this, knowing that I’ll no longer be around by the time this is unearthed…if it is ever unearthed. That is one of the hardest things about dying, I feel – the not knowing. Having to give up our earthly treasures, not knowing how the lives of our loved ones will turn out or continue. Not knowing what will come after, for me…if anything…

I wonder where my atoms will end up, how they will be recycled after a period of time in the earth. 98% of the atoms in out body are replaced every year. Did you know that?

It probably isn’t correct to write about ‘my’ atoms, but consider this, dear reader… perhaps the atoms that were ‘me’ at the time of my death are now a part of ‘you’. Strange thought, isn’t it?

I hope that whoever finds this will look upon the contents of this pendant and think about what is contained within. Perhaps try to piece together an idea of who I was. But at least by having my name read out in some indeterminable part of the future, part of me shall live once more.

Miniatures

A couple of my pendant designs incorporate some very personal effects... or they will do, once I figure out exactly what these elements will be. The pendants were designed with spaces for these elements to be included. The intention always was for photographs or other ephemera (bits and pieces that we collect throughout a lifetime), but I have to decide on some specific images now.

All of the photographs or writing will be scaled down - miniature photographs and letters. The miniature aspect is very important for a couple of reasons. Firstly, there is a great tradition of miniature painted portraits in mourning and memorial jewellery, going as far back as the early 1500s.

To quote:

"From this time, the sentimentality behind the miniature portrait is in its subject. Full size portraiture of people wearing miniatures of their loved ones is the greatest form of memorial. It is a true symbol of intimacy, keeping the picture of a loved one close at all times, and it is this tradition that is maintained right through until the advent of photography."
- From The Art of Mourning (http://www.artofmourning.com/miniatures.html)

The second reason the 'miniature' aspect is so important is simply that miniatures have a real resonance with me... childhood memories of my dolls' house, something I still treasure because my Dad made it for me. I think, now, that a lot of this connection simply has to do with the absolute detail contained in anything that has been 'miniaturised' - somehow concentrating the essence of what something is into such a small space.

As such, I am now going through photographs, selecting significant ones to scale down and include in my pendants. I've also made the somewhat brave decision to include pieces of writing from some of my journals. I'm feeling as though there is not much point in making these pendants if they aren't personal in some way.

One of the pendants, too, is specifically created in a 'remember me' theme... something of a time capsule that tells a story about who a person once was. In this case - me. So I have a little bit of writing to do as well, a letter to the future... thoughts about life and death and something about me. I'm not planning on dying anytime soon, but writing this letter, I feel, will be a good way to bring together a lot of thoughts and feelings that have been evoked by this studio.

progress

Just a quick post with some images of my latest experimenting...

Am now feeling that I can really just start making as many pieces as possible, as have refined techniques and silhouette/shapes/motifs/materials to a point where I'm actually quite pleased. :)


This 'pendant' divides into 2 separate parts, and is cast in resin and gilded in silver leaf. The silicone mould was cast from a composite laser cut card 'template' - different shapes were layered to create the borders and so on. Leaf patterning was also silicone cast in a thin layer (from a previous mould made cast from real leaves), and then cut to fit into the recesses of the cardboard pendant. After casting in resin, all the components become one, with no joins, etc.



As for keeping the two components together, I will likely recast the pieces so that one part of the pendant is the whole teardrop shape, with space within it for a smaller component. I have some very small, very strong magnets which I will cast in the resin - this will be the mechanism by which the two components are held together.

Below is the second pendant I have been developing... The small teardrop (separate) component is also cast in resin, with acrylic as a cover. Hair or other mementos could be placed beneath. This will be developed to be a separate pendant which attached onto the parent piece with magnets as well.


I have yet to refine how these pieces will be hung from chain... Below is one of my developmental sketches outlining thoughts on how the pendant might be finished.


I had been experimenting with creating silver wire lacy bits from silver clay, but with little success. Am currently developing a pattern to be laser cut from acrylic - shapes along the lines of tree roots or tendrils, so that the long parts can be heat shaped to extend over the pendant itself. Having this as a separate piece will also allow it to be treated (oxidised) separately to the rest of the pendant if I choose to finish in this way.

Stay tuned for more stuff as it happens, y'all!

My brain: let me show you it

Well... the inner workings of it when I'm designing, anyway.
Just a couple of developmental sketches for a pendant designs, and some scrawly notes about how I might construct it.

some stuff and a poem

I have decided to use shapes and patterns derived from nature in my final collection (pendants) as a way of symbolising life cycles - tree, root, flower, bud... as well as the fact that these are also some traditional symbols used in mourning jewellery. For example, dead leaves indicate sadness and melancholy, and flowers indicate the fragility of life. I also think they look like veins or sometimes even a heart.

Just now, as I was sketching some ideas, I thought of the poem Transformations, by Thomas Hardy - really beautiful ideas about cycles and nature and reincarnation...
The fact that the yew tree is mentioned is significant, too, as it is traditionally associated not only with sadness and lament, but with eternal life. (See, everything is connected!)
The poem be here:

Portion of this yew
Is a man my grandsire knew,
Bosomed here at its foot:
This branch may be his wife,
A ruddy human life
Now turned to a green shoot.

These grasses must be made
Of her who often prayed,
Last century, for repose;
And the fair girl long ago
Whom I often tried to know
May be entering this rose.

So, they are not underground,
But as nerves and veins abound
In the growths of upper air,
And they feel the sun and rain,
And the energy again
That made them what they were!

Every time I read it I love it more.

PS. Turns out even the background I selected for my blog is significant in terms of symbolism. I had no idea when I picked it, but it turns out that birds in flight symbolise 'the winged soul'. How very apt.

Poem...

While thinking about what elements I'll incorporate into my final collection (jewellery based), I came up with the idea of 'companion pieces' - smaller pieces of jewellery that fit inside a larger item, a way of representing a connection to a loved one.

I'd initially considered the idea of having pairs of an item - identical pieces - one to be left with the deceased, the other to be kept with a friend, lover or family member.
However, I think I much prefer the idea of creating two distinct pieces that fit together in some way.

Death immutably alters life for those left behind in its wake. With death, cherished connections become severed at a physical, practical, day to day level. We know that that we'll never again see the deceased in this life; perhaps never again for all eternity. However, such connections continue in thought and memory, and cannot be severed as long as life continues for those left behind.

The two (or more) pieces of jewellery may never again be physically connected, but the fact remains that there is the potential for them to be. Perhaps there is some comfort to be drawn from this thought?

Anyway, to cut a long story short (too late, I hear you cry!), these thoughts reminded me of the following poem by e. e. cummings. 'i carry your heart with me' is a testament to love that knows no bounds. To me, this could mean love beyond death as well.


i carry your heart with me


i carry your heart with me (i carry it in

my heart) i am never without it (anywhere

i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done

by only me is your doing, my darling)

i fear

no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want

no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)

and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)


- e. e. cummings

Jewels and Precious Things...

Shiny things rarely fail to capture my interest. I can't help it. Jewellery has captured my attention for a long time. It was looking over my own photographs of jewellery from the site of Mycenae that led me to further investigate the burial rites of ancient Greece.

I was in Greece just last year, and there are relics from thousands of years ago all over the country. It is often said that there is beauty in that which is broken, decaying, or incomplete. Perhaps that, coupled with my love of 'shiny things', was what attracted me intensely to worn down pieces of jewellery from the remains of old cities and civilisations since gone.

Having looked into the burial practices of ancient Greece over the past couple of weeks, I have been starting to wonder how many cultures consider what will be found in grave sites in hundreds or thousands of years to come. It has been quite tricky to find out precisely what the ancient Greeks dressed their dead in - while there are general descriptions of 'rich garments' or 'ankle length shrouds', there is nothing specific enough to leave no doubt as to what was placed in the ground over the body of the deceased. Of course, all of this having occurred so long ago, there is no physical evidence remaining - fabric (from natural fibres) left in the ground for centuries will not endure the test of time.
What is left, though (and then found many years on), are pieces of pottery left as offerings, or items of jewellery which adorned the bodies of the (rich) deceased.
Of course, it was unlikely that there was consideration by those burying their loved ones as to what would last longer in the ground - every element that was left in the ground with the body had to do with respect or safe passage for the soul in the afterlife.

All of this has led me to developing 'lasting' aspects into my burial garment - permanent tributes into things that typically last in the ground, anyway... buttons, fastenings, and of course, jewellery can all be reworked in such a way that when they remain (but the clothes or even the bodies do not), there will be something meaningful left many years on. Jewellery, in particular, may be reinterpreted and worked into the garment itself... perhaps as decorative elements made from materials that will last much longer than the cloth. The beauty of this, too, is that these decorative elements can be replicated into other forms as a memento for the family/loved ones of the deceased - a way of remembering and maintaining a connection.