Ornamental

The Wilmington Wrap Workshop - now FULL!!

  for years now, i've had students, blog readers, customers and friends asking when i would be teaching a workshop on the east coast.  i always seemed to be flying out west for the large art retreats, and even now i'm headed out to southern california (next week) to teach - excitement! - at the french general.  the workshops listed there quickly sold out, and a new one opened for those who had requested to be placed on a waiting list (there is still a few spots available for the new one, friday october 18 - go to french general for info and to register).  i've grown weary of the larger retreats; living out in the middle of nowhere for the past 8.5 years has left me a little shy of big groups of people and even more shy of large city hustle and bustle.  what to do?  i've moved into the log cabin my parents built 18 years ago, nestled in the woods with a remodeled studio space, and this next early spring i plan to begin holding small, intimate weekend workshops every now and then.  i still have a lot of kinks to iron out, so i'll coast through the winter getting ready to open those studio doors to those who want to come to these beautiful mountains and learn.  for now, though, i'm absolutely tickled to announce that i've been invited to teach in the glorious home state coastal city of Wilmington, North Carolina, the weekend of November 9-10!     i realize  that this is short notice - only one month away - but when i received the invitation from the workshop hostess, kim beller, i trusted completely the intuitive feeling that this workshop/wilmington experience would be a very good thing (for an interview with kim, and some background history on her personal studio space, go here; to read about the workshop that fellow artist and friend judy wise taught there, read kim's words here).  i'm not always like that; those of you who know me well will attest to that fact.  i fret about leaving home, fret about leaving my pup walter at the kennel, fret about whether i'll feel up to teaching again after an extended period of time has passed since the last workshop wound down.  but i'm going with this, wholeheartedly.  it will be a fine opportunity for those of you who've not taken a workshop with me, for those who live on this side of the country, for those of you who are art retreat-weary, for those who prefer a smaller, more intimate setting.  kim has a large studio space on her residential property there in wilmington; she has invited walter to come and stay (this will be his first!), and i'm looking forward to taking that boy out onto the beach for his first introduction to the ocean.  picture smelly dead things for him to investigate (and onto which to roll), wave-chasing, you name it.  picture me walking down the beach the day before, in search of natural findings to incorporate into a new design.  picture yourself sitting with a group of 12 or so like minded spirits, creating and brainstorming and sharing together for two solid days of artful bliss.... a rare opportunity to take a smaller workshop with me, in a lovely and personal environment.  (Update, Oct. 15:  workshop now full, and closed; i'll be happy to keep a waiting list for those interested) 
i've decided to teach the ever-popular wrap bracelet/necklace design - it's still what i consider a new workshop, having only taught it at valley ridge studio in the summer of 2012, and i am teaching it to a very full gathering at french general next week.  the photos of these pieces on pinterest seem to gain more and more momentum, and i always sell these pieces immediately when i list them in my etsy shop.  once you have committed to taking the class, and have paid for it, i'll send you the materials list so that you can be pulling your trinkets together.
here is the workshop description: 

Spend two full days designing richly detailed jewelry wraps that are perfect for layering assorted treasured findings, beads, and ribbons around either your neck or wrist; if made long enough, these pieces will look wonderful wrapped around the waist as well.  I’ll be teaching a very wide variety of jewelry techniques for this workshop:   wire wrapping (hooks/clasps, charm connections, link fabrication, attachment of leather/ribbon to metal clasps, bead tip formation for dangling pearls from chain), letter stamping into metal, drilling, patina aging for brass, copper and silver, embroidery stitching for leather, my “cocoon wrap” bead using lace or ribbon with wire, incorporation of vintage laces and ribbons into jewelry design, bead wire crimping, and pearl/gemstone bead knotting onto silk cord.  The rest of the time we will have relaxed sessions sharing layering ideas as we hammer, stitch, dangle, attach, thread, and knot to our hearts’ content.   I’ll share with you how my quirky brain works
when forming a story with bits and pieces of jewelry findings, and discuss how
a few words and images can create a narrative piece of wearable art.   Prepare to head home with a full heart and a mind overflowing with inspiration from creating amongst like-minded kindred spirits in the beautiful coastal city of Wilmington, in my home state of North Carolina.

A $10.00 kit (price is included in workshop cost) will include a serrated leather needle, a length of silk cord with its own thin needle, a small length of vintage 1940’s copper chain from my studio collection, patina solutions for brass, copper and silver (will not affect other metals, please keep this in mind),  a couple of 2” x ½” brass lengths for hammering words,  one large silverplate swivel watch fob clasp (you will need to bring more clasps – lobster is best – for additional bracelet/necklace wraps), a bit of beading
wire with crimp beads, a bit of mica, a few small eyelets, and a small square of polishing paper; this also covers the use of tools that I bring from home (eyelet setters, stamping blocks, flex shaft drill, diamond drill bits, masking tape, ink pads, metal alphabet stamps, base metal wire for practicing wraps, etc).
now for the gritty details: 

REGISTRATION POLICY

it is necessary to pre-register in advance.  fees are returnable if your cancellation is made at least 1 week prior to workshop date (less a 20% service fee).  if the class is cancelled by either myself or kim, for any unforeseen family emergency, your fee will be completely refunded. Fees are due at the time of registration in completion; sorry, there are no exceptions, and no refunds after the one week deadline.  i've set up a paypal button with its own link, over there in the righthand column, that says "buy now".  the workshop cost is $300.00 for both days, which includes a $10.00 kit fee.  just click on the link, and it will carry you straight to paypal, where your payment will be handled in full.  if you aren't familiar with paypal, there are instructions on the paypal site.  if you have any problem with the paypal button, you can email the funds
directly from your PayPal account (where it says "send money") to my email address of ninawitty@aol.com.  once you've sent payment, you will receive a comfirmation email from me.  remember, this workshop will be limited to 12-13 students, so decide quickly! 
it will be up to you to choose your own lodging and transportation, as well as food.  lunch will be available - perhaps take-out ordered that morning; those details will follow.  there is plenty to do in wilmington!  the downtown area is gorgeous, right there on the river, with a beautiful historical section filled with old buildings, homes, brick streets, gigantic trees.  there is the beach, of course, 10 minutes from the workshop locale.  so come early, stay later, that part is up to you.  as for myself, i'll be enjoying the opportunity to visit a bit with my younger son roy, who lives right there in that beautiful city with his sweetheart, happy as clams.   

i hope i'll see you there!

the seasons change

    buckeye hull basket, tiny!

here i am again, playing catch up as i try to take a deep breath.  summer is gone.  autumn is here.  i've had a cold, unusual for me, that turned into bronchitis.  this makes twice in a few months that i've had to make a trip to the doctor for an uncomfortable infection that left me compromised and unhappy here at home.  but the days are crystal clear for a change, the sunlight is filtering in quietly at different angles than before, and i herald the changes of the seasons.  hello, autumn...  hello, smell of smoke in the air.  hello, hot cups of ginger tea with a cookie on the side, hello chilly evenings, hello colors spreading from mountaintops down, down down into the valleys here below.   in honor of blue skies and fluffy white clouds - sapphires and pearls

my days are even quieter now.  i live half a mile up a gravel road from my mailbox, maybe i've said that before, but it makes a huge impact when i have to walk that far to pick up the mail.  walter and i have a lot of quiet time to spend together, out here walking amongst the woods, down by the little stream, or down in the studio where i tap away and he either sleeps or brings me assorted toys in vain attempts to pry me away from my work.   bless his heart.  he really has matured, but still has that crazy springer spirit and still has a wild streak in him.  he always will.  life is never dull.   we walk down Wooded Way in the soft rain, or in the cool shade of yellowing leaves overhanging the little one lane road.  we stop by the stream to search for buckeyes, gone now mostly, and we stop to listen to the toad that took up residence in the wet earth beside the stream this summer.  we sit on the porch to listen to the breeze in the trees.  we just sit, and listen.  we are quiet, and we are content. who wouldn't be, with peace and calm, like this?   i love calling this place home.  it has a name - did i mention this? - Heartrock Hill.  that name was selected all the way back in 1996 when i had a sign made, but i never knew it would hang on the log walls of this cabin.  it makes my mother relieved and happy to know that i am loving this place, and keeping it beautiful and safe.  and it is loving me right back.   a grainy look at my rainy day rainbow bedroom

  i find treasures waiting for me out in the woods, or right at my back door.   i gather these things and carry them inside with me, i place them here and there, and sooner or later they inspire me enough to work their spirit right into my work.  i pull roots from the edges of rivers or worn spots in a trail; i clip fern fronds to press between pages; i break off a stem of dried queen anne's lace, still standing in the meadow, for the simple reason that it reminds me of a bird's nest.  does this make me peculiar?  i don't even care.  not anymore.   i see sweetness in the clouds, in the fading leaves, in the trees.  i see the little girl i used to be.  my spirit is in every single thing i see, in every piece of artwork i make with my hands.   now that the early evenings come even earlier, now that the cool falls down around my shoulders as walter and i walk at dusk, i relish the time of drawing in, of shutting the windows against the coolness and the dark, of curling up on the red sofa with needle and thread in hand and stitching, stitching, stitching, long past midnight and into the wee, wee hours of the long, long nights.  these  nights are soft.  they stretch out long and wrap themselves around us, they send us quiet dreams, they rock us in our sleep.  these nights are sweet, and comforting, and full of the peaceful spirit of home.  i wish you all the sweetest of times in the coming days and weeks and months ahead.  sleep well.  walk always in awareness.  be yourself.  and be well. xo
postscript:  i completely neglected to mention a couple of things here, once i got to remembering all of the autumn things... my French General workshops filled up very quickly, and enough folks have signed up for a waiting list that a second workshop has been made available, for Friday October 18.  yes, that is my birthday, too.  i would love for you to come and spend the day with Kaari and me, stitching and creating a wrap bracelet for yourself.  if interested, sign up at French General, here. 
also, i've been contacted by a sweet North Carolina gal who has invited me to teach a workshop in her Wilmington studio the weekend of November 9.  it will be a two-day workshop, and i'm not quite sure yet if it will be friday and saturday, or saturday and sunday.  depends on several things.  i've decided to teach the wrap bracelet workshop there, since it is a new class and a lot of you have expressed interest - and it will be on the east coast, for those of you who lament the west coast offerings.  i know how that feels!  let me know if you are interested, so i can get a good idea of numbers.  it will be small - 10 or so.

don't forget, i'll be working on setting up the studio to teach small, intimate workshops there as well.  give me time to invest in tables and chairs and extra tools, to do some local research for places to stay, for places to cater lunches, for little side trips.  interested in visiting a pottery studio and a goat farm out this way?  in purchasing fresh goat cheese, pottery and beeswax candles right there on the farm?  interested in spending part of a day exploring this gorgeous area with cameras and journals, and coming back to create something based on what you have seen, heard, found?  let me know what appeals to you, in that regard.  i'm hear, and i'm listening.

one more thing, and then it's time to go walk down little Wooded Way:  i've spent the better part of today listing new pieces in my shop.  go take a look.  several things have sold while i was writing this post....
thanks for continuing to be here.  i know that my posts have grown farther and farther apart; the time spent writing and editing photographs seems elusive these days, in spite of the fact that my hours have actually, finally, quietened and settled down.  i do appreciate your coming back to read, to let me know you are here. xo  

Introducing Heart Rock Studio

 so here, without much fanfare, is - the studio.  The Studio - a new, greatly expanded spot where i'll be spinning mysteries and memories into tangible bits and pieces of ornaments with which to connect, to wear and hopefully to love.  getting to this place seemed to take so very long (and many, many, many $$$ - thank you, mama!!!)  - the garage car door removed, new windows installed, multiple ceiling lights and electric outlets installed, drywall up, paint on walls, shelves built, gas wall heater moved from upstairs to down, and many many many boxes unpacked, materials and tools put into the places where they fit - and none of this has been easy.  not much of it, really, at all has been what i would call fun.  it's the first time that i've done any remodeling whatsoever, first time i've dealt with contractors and carpenters, first time i've tried to stand my ground on what i think would work best for me, on what would look and feel right (that was the most difficult thing of all - asserting my own priorities over the schedule and opinions of a butt headed contractor).  but now that most of the upheaval and drywall dust have settled, and i've sat at the table before those windows with hammer in hand for more than a day or two, i can say that it feels exactly right, that i'm thrilled (and still a little overwhelmed) with the results.  i'll show you a few of the "before" photos and a few of the after:    garage car door removed, and three big windows installed, side by side; metal door has now been replaced with a full window insert door and screened door.

i snapped this photo of the cabin so that you couldn't see the contractor's mess in the driveway, right in front of the studio windows.  i have a lovely front porch with wicker swing, a nice new side deck and fence for walter, and a large screened porch in back.  the studio is at the bottom, where the basement car garage once was.    bill, my electrician.  he installed new overhead lights (no flourescent!) and multiple wall outlets.    

 drywall is up; this began the day after i moved - when box upon box upon box was dropped into the middle of the room, and had to be moved yet again when this work began.  (thank you, julie!!!)  next came paint, and then - finally - shelves and an additional table, for soldering.
  the antique welsh pine farmhouse cupboard, which (i was told) once housed chickens in the bottom, has been mine for 26 years;  now it will hold art supplies.  it had been in storage in the basement for over 13 years, as i'd not had a house large enough for a hutch; it was a mess, with dust and dirt and mold.  for the better part of two hours, i rubbed it down inside and out with Murphy's Oil Soap, and polished it clean once again.  the table to the left will be a part of my "shipping station", tucked up under the stairs that lead up to the rest of the house.   i crept downstairs and snapped this photo of a sunlit studio the morning after the contractor finished the shelving at nine pm the previous night.  there were nearly 100 unpacked boxes waiting to be opened and items placed in their spots on those empty shelves. (taken the night the shelves were built)

  i also had a plumber install water lines to an antique pedestal sink that daddy gave me 20 years ago; he had found it in an old house that he tore down in the 1960's.
as i wrote the first of this post, the contractor and his assistant were walking up and down the hill, in and out of the storage room downstairs, mumbling and pitching things into their trucks, heading somewhere else from here, at last.  the fence in back for walter is up, except for a lovely, old fashioned  (modest, and new) ornamental wire and galvanized metal gate that i ordered over the phone. 
i long for quiet, for rhythm, for privacy.  without the workers' noise and disruptions, i can hear the wind in the leaves.  i am not interrupted one hundred times a day.  walter snoozes at my feet.  hummingbirds buzz at the feeders.  i swing in the wicker on the porch.  i walk around in pajamas, barefoot.  i stand at the windows, unselfconciously, without feeling that i'm breaking anyone's concentration.  (update:  i'm completing this post from alabama, where i'm finally able to spend a week with my mother, after all these months).

now?  i've sat at the studio table for hours at a time, taking time to stare out into the trees and let the sounds and sights of the beautiful surrounding area soak into my heart and soul.    my little road, called Wooded Way; the cabin sits up above the road, on the left, with the screened porch tucked up into those trees.  a stream runs through the bottom of the property, to the right of the road, and i can hear it from the back porch and the deck.  there is half a mile of gravel road between the cabin and the mailbox at the paved road on down the mountain.

it is a quiet place, peaceful and profound in its beauty; thanks to the nonstop rain of this summer, the trees and meadows are still as green as the depth of spring. 
inspiration strikes when we least expect it:   after the contractor stated, when installing the wood and wire fence for walter, that the area was "friggin' root city", i remembered the thin tendrils of rhododendron root that i had plucked from the watery river's edge back in the spring.
  i thought of family strength, of how much i love my mother, of how much i love my father still, even though he has passed on from here to the beyond.  i thought of how it feels to be living in the cabin, surrounded by loving memories, there within the solid whitewashed walls. 
 i'll begin listing some of my new jewelry pieces this week, now that i've got the time to do it.  just writing this takes a huge weight off of my shoulders; it's been far too long since i was able to sit and create, to work, to earn my keep....  stay tuned. xo

teaching at French General in L.A.!!!

 
  i'm thrilled and honored to announce that i've been invited to teach a couple of workshops this fall at the splendid French General of los angeles.  kaari meng, who owns the business, and i have been connecting and reconnecting through, of all things, good old Instagram; and now that she is back from a month in france, and the dust is settling a little from my upheaval of a move two weeks ago, we've been able to finalize the details and dates. 
go to the french general website here, or better yet - read a blog post here that kaari posted today.  i can't begin to convey just how excited i am to be teaching there, to be meeting kaari finally in person, to be heading back to beloved california, to be seeing treasured friends there.  the dates are October 17 for a short evening technique workshop, and October 19 (day after my birthday!  what a way to celebrate, yes?!) for a full day of learning and play.  thank you, kaari, and thank you my friend holly (who "introduced" kaari to my work and to me - and who came to montreal with kaari's sister molly to take a workshop i taught ten years ago), for waving the magic wand and helping this to become a reality...xo

hello from Heartrock Hill, on Wooded Way

  it's done:  i have the move more behind me now, rather than looming ever large in front.  i couldn't have done it this time around, after living in one house out in the country for over eight years, without the enormous help of three very dear people in my life:  robin, my older son, who drove all the way from colorado and stayed with me for the better part of six weeks; my treasured friend katey, from alabama - someone i've known just over a year but also someone i feel that i've always known and loved.  one of those - and julie, my beloved friend who is also another "one of those" i've known forever and ever....  katey drove the 4 hours over from alabama for four nights and helped me pack up into a jillion cardboard boxes the overstuffed, filled-to-the-brim studio that all these years had been crammed into that tiny little bedroom space.  she also helped make phone calls, made arduous lists that she checked off every night.  she packed up return mail order clothing and bedskirt items, packed up jewelry items to be shipped, drove out to the cabin (an hour's drive) and back again, drew a layout of the future studio with shelves and tables and measurements.
  she even followed me into town so i could leave my car to have new tires mounted in the ever present torrential soaking rain. 

after a very full three days, katie left, and thirty six hours later, walter's auntie julie came back down from ohio and stayed for another two weeks (after having been down to help with yard sales, furniture sales, thrift store and garbage hauls), tackling such mountainous tasks as emptying out and cleaning the basement, taking truckload after truckload of garbage and overflow (and a very heavy, nasty old gas grill) to the dump, delivering a chair and ottoman to an upholsterer almost all the way to asheville, rolling up a heavy 8 x 10 oriental rug and carrying it off to be cleaned, running countless loads of blanket and linen laundry. 
the list goes on:  she vacuumed, she swept, she broke furniture and machinery down for ease of packing, she wrapped framed items to be moved, she lugged heavy items up and down the stairs.  she spent the entire final day on firefly emptying kitchen cabinets, packing food to carry with us, wiping counters, packing up yard tools and big studio basement items; and at dark that evening, julie drove all the way into town to pick up sushi dinner after 9:00pm.
while they stayed on firefly, each of these gals slept on an inflatable mattress, out on the living room floor (their choice, they both insisted).  those were miserably long, exhaustive days and nights; those are two friends i hold very, very close to my eternally grateful heart.  and robin? 
he listed and sold furniture on craig's list, painted a bedside table my favorite shade of soft robin's egg blue/green, painted my iron patio table and chairs a snappy, shiny new fire engine red, carried boxes of heavy books out to the cabin before the actual move.  he cleaned out most of the basement, carried many a load of trash and castaways to the dump and the thrift stores in town; he organized the carport, and continued to encourage and urge me to purge, purge, purge.  i'm ever so glad that he did.  all three of them - robin, katey, julie, and even robin's wonderful pup nualla, that makes four - were there at the very unpleasant height of the stress, and never faltered, never once snapped.  i'm deeply blessed to have such wonderful, loyal, unconditionally loving people in my life, who are there in the best and also in the very worst of times to help and support and encourage me in any way that they humanly can.  i look back on the last 3.5 months and wonder how on earth i was ever able to reach this point, where i am sitting out on the great big screened porch, ceiling fan humming overhead, walter sprawled out on a red oriental carpet at my feet.  or, sitting out on the front porch swaying gently in my old wicker swing.  or, in the early evening, sitting out on the new side deck, where i can gaze out over the mountains across from the valley.  i think that walter really likes this place (how could he not?), now that i've quit moving boxes and paper around. 
things smell familiar to him - the furniture, the rugs - and that has to help.   now that the monsoon rains have finally ceased - the two solid weeks of rain, rain, rain that brought thunder and lightning with it to shake walter up - i think he likes the patches of sun that filter through the windows, the porch, and onto the bare wooden floors.  it's nice to discover the way that the sun does this, the falling and the spilling onto old familiar, beloved things - now that it has a chance to break through all of that monotonous, dreary grey.   (here you see my grandmother's lamp, with angels all around; my mother's old pie safe that my grandmother had spotted on someone's back porch and purchased on the spot; my karen newgard pottery mug.)

  (and here you see my friend julie whitmore's incredible hand pinched and painted pottery, to which i am terminally addicted).  

i'm still spending large chunks of time dealing with the contractor and his helper, who are here again and unpredictably gone again like a summer storm, my telling them how deep, how high to make new studio shelves, hoping they'll have time to come back again the following day.  the work they've done so far is beautiful; i can't complain in the least about that. 
but studio boxes remain stacked four rows deep and all the way to the ceiling in the back basement room, awaiting for the fellows to finish making and installing the shelves; how i'll manage to dig in and remove heavy stacked furniture and some fifty-plus boxes on my own is beyond me, but the cabin above already feels like my own cozy home, complete with the love and the spirited essence of my parents. 
the evening walks down Wooded Way with walter are lovely, the blackberries are tart but ripe, the wildflowers there for the picking.
construction frustrations are manageable, in the grand scheme of things.  it's summer, my favorite time of the year.  i have an incredibly beautiful roof over my head.  walter is finally relaxed, and content, with many new perches from which to snooze.
the next chapter is coming.  stay tuned.  xo   (this blog post was written as a gigantic, never-ending thank you to my incredible mother, who has opened the cabin doors to be my home, and who has funded the remodeling of the basement garage at the cabin into a lovely, big open studio...my FIRST EVER that is a real, bonafide studio space.  i love you, mama, with all of my heart!!!)  xoxoxo