Awake by Sara Biel

I surface
Breach watery daze of dawn
Cringe deeper
Nestle into a nest of wolves
Thoughts scatter
A pattern of white caps
Do these marks mean anything to you?

My heart falls open
A vulnerable atlas
Archive of failure
Of rocky tumbles
Washed in ruminating waves

I come unmoored
Wander the lacy vacancy
At the core of my bones
Visit secrets I keep from myself
Memories I banished before
They were breathed into being
I float the endless looping hallways
My thoughts echo
Distant sound of windows breaking

I regret the time I’ve lost to this maze
Doubt seductive as a riptide
A legacy that leaves me
Twisted still
With too many words
No sound to set them sail

There are small moments
I come up for air
Slapped awake by the view from
This damp shadow

How long have I been dancing?
Whose blood stains my shoes?
 

Rachael Yamagata • Nobody

From Rachael Yamagata's new album, Tightrope Walker

Bold

Curated by dorataya

Remember Etsy Treasuries?  Although I have not posted one here in awhile, and sadly, Etsy now promotes them less, I continue to truly enjoy seeing their creative themes and unique finds.  The moody, vibrant ones always seem to catch my eye the most.  Anyone with an Etsy account can create a Treasury, and I think that putting one together is an art form in itself: from selecting images, to choosing a title, to visually arranging them in the given layout.  The sky (and the 16-item max. space) is the limit.

See this Treasury here.

* * *

It's almost my 5th shop anniversary, and the promos continue!

IG followers @ectiwshop receive 15% off all jewelry purchases from my shop after purchase.  

To receive this discount:

1. Follow me on IG (@ectiwshop), 

2. Make a jewelry purchase, and 

3. Etsy convo me that you are an IG follower.

Weather-Inspired Finds

It's been overcast and muggy around here lately--sort of reminiscent of winter weather, but minus the chill factor and comforting urge to pile on a cozy sweater.  Peering out the window, it appears to be a foggy day: slight tendrils of fog can be seen, moderate gusts of wind heard, and periodic bursts of sunlight felt, but the cloying warmth and mugginess that has permeated our living space over this odd period of a few days reminds me that it's really 70 degrees Fahrenheit outside.  Instead of the 55 degrees I'd much rather prefer.

This strange weather (not quite summer, not quite winter...or fall or spring) has provided the impetus and inspiration to post the unique finds below, which were curated from my Etsy favorites.  Besides displaying a wonderful product, each composition has such fantastic mood, evocatively soft lighting, and a fog-lover's choice of colors--lots of varied grays and off-whites abound, naturally highlighting rather than visually overwhelming the products shown.  (No blinding-white shadow boxes here.)  Together though, is where the complex visual delight lays, for me at least, as this collection of images visually articulate my deep visceral longing for steadiness and consistency (an example of which is the hope of steady weather), in addition to the creative spark that I yearn for at all times--that often proves inconsistent!

Danna G. art 

tin tabernacle 

Minicyn 

The Fiber Florist

HADITHI

Out of Line

To the Swift

Hannah Miller | To the Swift

New in Shop: Halloween Gifts

Been a little delayed in posting photos of some new shop items, which is a darned shame because they are such darkly beautiful, Halloween things.  Here are some of them:

  

Autumnal Glow Small Kraft  Gift Box

Cascade Collection: Dark Tourmaline
and Peacock Pearl Cluster Pendant

Small Geometric Garnet Pendant

Custom Wedding Favors:
Raven Crow Hand-stamped Vintage Book Page

Tiny Pink Tourmaline Dangle

Available at emeraldcut.etsy.com.

Plant Study

A few weeks ago--or was it last week?--I happened upon my indoor sill plants in glorified light.  Not a glowing, halo-esque type of lighting, but the bright-yet-moody, ambient light that characterizes the time in-between late afternoon and dusk.  It's perhaps an hour at most that the light stays within this range, for it's not the soft drape of morning light, nor is it the harsh tint of the afternoon's.  Clouds were rolling in haphazardly, staggered in their movement, much like a child's first time on the ice: I had but a half hour's time before the clouds overtook the sun completely.

I usually edit my photographs on standard PicMonkey for clarity, color, and brightness.  But today, in this blog post, I wanted to capture the stillness and depth of my original shots--so here they are in their unedited forms.  Not too scary a sight to behold.  However, these images are the first that I've posted on this blog that have not been edited in some way, shape, or form, even if slightly.  Maybe you can tell the difference?

Oregano

Shiso

Arugula Roquette

* * *

Welcome, dear September!

P.S. All Internet connection issues--our outdoor connection wire was cracked, plus our modem was overheated--have been solved.  A new modem and some new holes in the wall later, everything is as good as new.  Thank goodness, I say!

Pinspiration

Some Pinterest inspiration 

from my pins.

Lone Wolf

By Jadea Kelly

Album: Clover

Been feeling like music lately...

Clover can be downloaded for free via Noisetrade here.


* * *


Happy July 4th!

The Cabin

The Cabin, by Stewart Edward White

I've been yearning for a sense of stillness lately, a calm quiet that only creeps up on you when you least expect it and lingers for moments on end.  Started reading Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard, again--a well-worn favorite.  Dillard quotes Steward Edward White (why do I always want to call him "Edward Stewart White"?), so I figured that I should see what his writing is about.  I mean, if Dillard cites him, then he, by this association, must be one great observer and solitude seeker.

My 1911 copy of The Cabin arrived in usable vintage form: frayed hardcover edges, decaying corners, and binding half worn; an overall delicate-yet-sturdy feel.  The book chronicles White's life spent in a rustic, simple vacation cabin in the Sierras that he and his wife, Billy, helped build by hand.  White's pro-conservation perspective and urgent, gentle tone reflects his soaring popularity during the early 20th century conservationist movement.

 

According to Wikipedia: 

"White's books were popular at a time when America was losing its vanishing wilderness. He was a keen observer of the beauties of nature and human nature, yet could render them in a plain-spoken style. Based on his own experience, whether writing camping journals or Westerns, he included pithy and fun details about cabin-building, canoeing, logging, gold-hunting, and guns and fishing and hunting." 

With short chapters with titles such as the following, how could I pass it up? 

His philosophical slant--nature driven, minimalist, and highly moralistic--makes for a quietly compelling read.  White's words and stories are resonant and modest (sparse even), but it is his unwavering enthusiasm in exploring and relaying to the reader the natural world around him that makes this book a worthwhile read.  Wish there was more detailed information about White and his writings online, beyond Wikipedia...

 

* * *

Ever since I received a new pair of hiking boots earlier this winter, I've been bit hard by the wander bug, longing to embark on mountainous day-long hikes--just the husband and I in the thick of it.  The Cabin will have to suffice for now.

Bravery

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OutsideinArtStudio

I recently read an applause-worthy post that made me think of the sad truth that bravery--and kindness, for that matter--so often eludes most of us as we scurry about our lives, immersed in our respective bubbles.  And it's not time-worn chivalry that I'm thinking of here.  It seems like the mere thought of acting out of context to help others instills in us some level of fear or uncertainty, doubtful emotions that make us freeze when we know deep down that we should probably be doing something.  Maybe bravery is situational or contextual, but what I do know is that being pushed out of our cushy comfort zone is sometimes entirely worth the try.

New USPS Rates

As you've probably heard, USPS rates have gone up significantly as of January 27th, 2013.  With each of these yearly rate increases, I hold my breath and cringe, afraid to see exactly how much postage prices have risen in conjunction with the times.  Yes, I understand that the post office, in the name of patriotism and efficacy, needs to stay in business.  People need their jobs.  And believe me, I understand the importance of USPS in the maintenance of small online businesses via quick and efficient deliveries.  However, what I don't understand is how much the rates have gone up--what was once an affordable way to ship internationally is now mind-bogglingly expensive. 

International buyers bear the brunt and burden of this executive decision--with the new rates, the First-Class International option is no longer affordable. 

Through this online gizmo, I can figure out how much it will cost to ship a package of a certain weight (with specific USPS services, i.e.: First-Class, Priority, etc.) to almost anywhere in the world:

For example, a 3-ounce package shipped First-Class with Registered Mail (package insurance) to Australia will now cost me, and the buyer, $22.40. Last year, this package of the same weight/mail options would have cost me under $17.  You may say that I am making a huge deal out of the $5 difference, but when compared to the price of EmeraldCut shop items--which I strive to keep affordable--paying over $20 for shipping is excessive, to say the least. 

This issue leaves me in a conundrum, a moral dilemma of sorts?  Should I charge my buyers the new shipping prices, or should I keep with my old ones and swallow my tears when I have to fork out an extra $4-$7 to ship international orders?  (FYI: The January price hikes affect all international pricing--even Non-Registered, plain old First-Class Mail packages to Australia have gone up $4.)  Not every shop on Etsy can afford this, nor can all buyers.  Realistically speaking, people may even think twice about purchasing from non-domestic shops in order to avoid the price hike.  

Call me an alarmist, if you will, but I did not buy into this plan when I opened my shop in fall 2010.  Then I remind myself: life can be unfair at times, but at least I have my wit and humor intact--vital attributes in order to the brave the variable storm.

Dream in Green

Feeling quiet, a subtle warmth radiates from my cocoon-like abode on this chilly end-of-autumn day.  The cocoon is a semi-permeable barrier from the outside world with just enough space and textured translucency to gently filter the sunshine in.   

A contemplative Etsy Treasury curated by Blushie, titled "Dream in Green," reminds me of the natural world's beauty, a calming retreat to nature that helps to put everything in perspective as we laugh and cry, and still remain hopeful, which is, I think, the ultimate collective strength and beauty of humankind.

12/23/12:
Happy holidays, as I take a brief blogging break.

Spirit

Does it feel like the holidays to you?  As in Christmas is in less than two weeks?  Not really, at least here.  I was tempted to title this post "Bah Humbug," but it was already taken by this smart lady, and her post pretty much summed up the not-so-festive holiday feeling that I am currently experiencing--I couldn't have said it any better.

So here I am listening to Jagged Little Pill instead of the contemplative jams of the more mellow singer-songwriter variety, and I am certainly feeling fine.  (Christmas music is not my forte, anyhow.)

I spent six hours yesterday doing holiday stuff, and to tell you the truth, it was fun--especially since I purchased the majority of the gifts that I didn't make myself in early autumn; most from online sources.  That way, I was able to ease into the holiday season, and still enjoy the peppermint hot cocoa without absentmindedly burning my tongue.

This easing into the holidays got me thinking: the holidays is beyond giving the "right" gift (or not), and is also more than just spending time with family.  The entire point of the holidays, perhaps, is to learn about yourself, such as your strengths and weaknesses; your consummate burnout level in a time of potentially high crises.  One's dogged aversion or warm embrace of the season of giving takes on a whole new meaning when put into this context.  Realizing what makes you uncomfortable--or comfortable--about the holidays, and how these categorizations can change circumstantially, reveals to you the you of the moment disguised as (the lack of) holiday spirit.

Feign enthusiasm, I cannot--and I will no longer punish myself for it.  Conversely, if I happen to break out into a holiday jig, I will not punish myself for it, either.

Point Cabrillo Light Station

Recently, we took a little trip to the Point Cabrillo Light Station, which made for some otherworldly photographs:

 The light station's light pierces through the fog, and can be seen miles upon miles out to sea--the ocean is behind the lighthouse.

Fun fact #1: A "light station" is different from a "lighthouse" in that a light station encompasses the lighthouse plus the additional buildings surrounding it, such as the lightkeeper's house and blacksmith shop.  According to this book, Point Cabrillo is one of the few West Coast lighthouses that has nearly all of its original structures still intact.  Pretty good for a light station that was built in 1909.

One of the three lightkeepers' houses.

Fun fact #2: The lightkeepers were ranked.

View of the back of the light station from the inner edge of the cliff; not too far behind me is a steep drop into the icy, unpredictable waters below.  

Fun fact #3: The lightkeepers' houses are behind the barely visible dark trees on the left side of the image.

 One can easily see why a light station was needed on this stretch of coast--it is very rocky and the surf is quite intense. 

Felt innately like home.

 

I must admit, the inspiration for this trip was, appropriately, Virginia Woolf's To the Lighthouse, which I have blogged fleetingly about here and here.

Can you believe that this California state park was at risk of closure last year?  It's a good thing that California just so happened to stumble upon nearly $54 million in hidden funds.  

We need some genuine accountability and transparency, folks.

Quote: Contemplation

 Remember my post from a few months ago that included thoughts on Virginia Woolf's novel, To the Lighthouse?  Well, I'm still currently reading the book, for its complexity of thought--as well as its glorious sentence structure--have me not quite spellbound, but nevertheless intrigued.  (Plus, I am a very slow reader.)  I have found myself rereading paragraphs twice, and then one more time, in order to grasp their entirety: It's almost as if each sentence comprises multiple sentences, such that each sentence serves a deeper, analytical purpose.  Furthermore, the poignant intimacy and painful vulnerability that is woven into certain relationships and/or characters in the novel is pure brilliance--the depths of loneliness and the difficulty of true interaction are heavily explored, built on the stream-of-consciousness perspective.  But I need not say this about V. Woolf, one of the most celebrated literary figures of all time, correct?

A quote from To the Lighthouse:

"All was silence.  Nobody seemed yet to be stirring in the house.  She looked at it there sleeping in the early sunlight with its windows green and blue with the reflected leaves.  The faint thought she was thinking of Mrs. Ramsay seemed in consonance with this quiet house; this smoke; this fine early morning air.  Faint and unreal, it was amazingly pure and exciting.  She hoped nobody would open the window or come out of the house, but that she might be left alone to go on thinking, to go on painting.  She turned to her canvas."

 In my opinion, being lost in early morning thought is a privilege, one that is oftentimes overlooked and taken for granted.  It is a sane act in this increasingly crazy, go-go-go world.  What an indelible treat it is to be able to sit still for even fifteen minutes a day, just observing and thinking--hushing the constant stream of thoughts rushing through your mind like an endless river of anxiety.  To quell anxiety, even if just for a little while, is a day well spent.

This, to me, is unfiltered, unobtrusive beauty in its truest form.

Thoughts on Contentment

Let's face it, we are imperfect beings endlessly searching, in vain, for our elixir, our cure-all.  A take one pill a day to do the happy dance, a carefree twirl around the room, as a way to achieve instant happiness as an emotion and contentment as a state of mind.  A way to get out of bed in the morning in order to face the tumultuous day.  War paint.  Maybe you're not the pill popping type, so you instead seek happiness in buying things to fill the emptiness inside you: that deep, dark, arcane thing that surfaces (and colors your interactions with others) whenever you perceive times to get unbearably tough.  Or perhaps you thrill seek in order to feel fully alive, to take the numbness away and replace it with a temporary adrenaline rush.  Now, I can feel.  Others keep everything--the plane ticket stubs, musty old newspapers, tattered magazines--deriving a sense of stability and order in their mere presence.  Just in case.

(I am just as imperfect as you, as imperfect as the person in the next room.  A stranger in the midst, from this perspective, is nary a stranger at all--you see?)

Our daily routines become so emotionally ingrained in us that we lose sight of their actual meanings, including the implied.  Our minds become impermeable to change, to growth, unable to see the light at the end of the tunnel.  Timid, we are afraid to reach out into the dark and take that leap into the unknown.

But sometimes, hope flickers where darkness permeates.  In this hope is the seed of contentment reaching out, first cautiously--with tentative steps--and then bravely, with a determined stride.  It grows, shapes itself; conceives.  Reveals to us mere mortals that contentment must be found within before it can be found without.
 

This Week

I hope that you've had a good week.  As for me, I've continued my creative, exploratory trek, sans-computer (for the most part).  I've not ignored the computer all together, which in my opinion, strikes a good balance between technology and humanism.  Technology as a means to an end; a tool.

Here are some other tools that were unusually helpful this week:

Book--Virginia Woolf's To the Lighthouse.
I'm only 29-pages in, but the complex, semi-detached writing style has drawn me in--I frequently catch myself referring back to the novel's unique tone as a source of inspiration.

Box cutter, vintage book pages--to make wall decorations with (see below). 

        Piece on the far left is listed for sale in my Etsy shop.

Camera--documentation, documentation, documentation.

Tools are truly more than a means to an end, since they can foster the creative process--as well as help one get through that very process.  It's interesting to observe how humans assign meaning to inanimate objects, look duly towards them for some sign of relief...or peace.  It is in this symbolism that tools transcend their merely objective usage and become decorative, sometimes revered objects.  Truthfully, I couldn't imagine it any other way because our continuous search for meaning makes life ever the more grand: a wind-worn pebble becomes a good luck charm; one's favorite pen, a reminder of a sentiment's origin.  On that note, happy weekending.

Quiet Days Ahead

Hello, July.  June went by with a blink of an eye.  It's too bad because I was really enjoying the early summer (or was it late spring) gardening, in addition to the magical mood that June evokes (think summer hats, road trips, and ripening fruits).  Perhaps I am undoubtedly yearning for times gone by, a nostalgia worn on the sleeves of slower-paced days, where entire daylight hours were spent tending the garden, where technology did not guide the stilted, predictable movement of our days.  I look for continuity and organic movement, not staccato-like flitting back and forth from here to there.

Lately, I've been spending less time on the computer, which I have found allows me to just be.  It is in this quietness that I've been able to process my thoughts, and alleviate some of the dreaded anxiety--for I thrive in silence, in the composure of thoughts (solitary, not quite monastic).  Truly, this clear-headed mind state has fostered more creativity and thoughtfulness than I have ever imagined.  So needless to say, I am seeing where it leads me (hopefully to complete some long-term goals that I've set for this year).  Thanks for sticking with me: I am much obliged.

Huge Etsy shop sale tomorrow, 7/4!

Insight is Golden

I feel like society has become linguistically lazy.  Today, I heard the word, "Awesome," uttered three times by a news reporter in a five-minute-long segment.  Nope, I do not care, news reporter, if you are using the word contextually.  Your lackadaisical, rote response does not impress me.  Rather, my first instinct is to pound my fists against the table in frustration; instinct no. 2 is to smack my palm in sheer linguistic agony against my forehead.  Then, I yawn out of boredom.  "Awesome" is not as shudder worthy as the usage of the filler word, "like," interspersed between every two words (or so) in a sentence...but still.  Linguistic laziness--"a lazy descriptor," as my husband says--bites.  Like, big time.  Yes, I am being ironically sarcastic.

Is the use of filler words in a sentence a societal marker of non-individuality and non-uniqueness?  A blunder to the carefully-wrought syntax of the American English language, both verbal and written?  Unfortunately, I truly believe so.

We, who take note of linguistic variances, are strange birds who derive pleasure (or pain) in observing how our language evolves--or stalls.  This gives us reason to think critically about how the world goes 'round, with language as a gauge.  Everything seems to be a trend in this land of old; and trends come and go.

So, this begs me to say...
You know, insight is forevermore golden for those who seek it--
here's (raises a mug) to a vocabulary consisting of words that actually mean something.