Chapter One
I grew up in my early formative years in Tripoli, Libya, the real roots of my life, my father was an Air Force Colonel, and we were stationed there. From the first moment, I loved everything, it was exotic, seductive, the air was perfumed. My mother, who was Italian, loved jewelry. We would have a driver take us to the souks many Saturday mornings, stall after stall we were treasure hunting, I was enchanted! Amazing how the casual arrangement of ones life can frame ones future, I still hold in my minds eye some of the pieces my mother had back then, continuing to inspire my design work today.
I grew up in my early formative years in Tripoli, Libya, the real roots of my life, my father was an Air Force Colonel, and we were stationed there. From the first moment, I loved everything, it was exotic, seductive, the air was perfumed. My mother, who was Italian, loved jewelry. We would have a driver take us to the souks many Saturday mornings, stall after stall we were treasure hunting, I was enchanted! Amazing how the casual arrangement of ones life can frame ones future, I still hold in my minds eye some of the pieces my mother had back then, continuing to inspire my design work today.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chasing beauty, Bombay; how I loved it from the first moment, the cultural mix so intoxicating, vibrant colors and incensed airs, shrines on every corner, years of adorations, thick red ochre paste almost completely covering the image of a goddess, Ganesha or a holy cow. Each one with beads, charms, talismans, almost layered out of sight, how could I not stay here forever? I arrived in my early twenties, out to seek the world, after my studies in Switzerland, my real career path started here. How does one know the path one is taking, where it is going? The bazaars of Bombay were colossal, impassioned, fervent, they became my domain. The silver section was totally captivating, sitting cross
legged on white cotton palettes with bolsters, shoes left at the door, vast trays piled high with voluminous amount of lavaliere were brought out, it was astonishing, it was cultural, it was pure India. This is where my first collections were born, where I found my heart beat. This was school, where my eye was trained. I stayed two years.
Chapter Three
Amulet Market, Bangkok. Buddhist reliquaries, Buddhist temples, another world, another dimension, Southeast Asia. A different twist on amulets and talismans and other strong beliefs. To carry a thread from an enlightened monk in a gold or silver vial, this is another extent
of magic, a shred of. a robe, an image in microfilm or terra cotta, this culture has a whole other modus to adornment and defence. Upon my first encounter with this aestheticism, I fall madly in love. Rise early in this hot and sweltering, exotic city, Buddhist chants echoing from somewhere, river taxi, many monks aboard, seven stops later a series of golden temples shining bright in the sun. A short walk, the amulet market - an impact on the senses, how to focus, this is the skill I have now. I begin my search, stand by stand, I find a plethora of shapes and sizes, pleasing patinas. I work in my head, how to assign these charms and talismans to my jewelry, can’t stop to think now, the crush of the crowd, the heat. I uncover some coiled aluminium and copper wraps, this is modern art, 1000 year old design, I am in a swoon, keep going. Banded, colorful ribbons that were worn or touched or blessed by Buddhist monks or leaders, I am not sure of the hierarchy, but they are appealing and sweet, buy them all. Old ceramic beads that have pressed Buddha images that you can twirl in your fingers,
every spin a message to the universe,
very nice! I find it all very seductive and winsome, adornment and alchemy, the thread that binds, one culture to the next, our great human race, beauty above all!
Chapter Four
The first time I came upon coins found in river beds, I was stunned, so gorgeous, a different kind of patina, blue/green/grey, alluring, going back to what time period, I was in a swoon. Coins first came into use around 700 B.C., how soon thereafter were they employed as ornament? The desire to adorn, right out of the cave, what was nearest? Bird feather, sticks and stones, bones, then coins, must be. I have used coins continuously, every type, shape, silver and gold, it is woman's currency. The river washed coins I found in Burma, basic metal, but the stamping beautiful, mythical creatures and the color out of this world, translating to heavenly....ancient copper and bronze, Middle Eastern coins, some so thick and weighty, originally carried around in leather pouches, these all support magic, become talismanic over time. I have been fortunate to have instinctively followed a path of aesthetics that embraced history and women's culture, beauty, art, transformation. I count my lucky stars everyday for this astonishing journey my life has been.
Chapter Five
Sitting at my workbench, before me a pile of coral which I started yesterday to grade. Each bead is beautiful, a world unto itself, 19th century and beyond, each one with a pleasing shape and lustre, hand drilled, each single bead was valued, treasured, a purse of hopes and dreams, armament in uncertainty. I discovered coral on my first return to North Africa since my youth, Tangier being the portal, Morocco. I fell deeply in love, again. Coral is calming, whenever I am feeling out of sorts or scattered, it is what I turn to, handling it centres me. In the olden days in Tibet, it was ground up and used as a palliative for women, a defensive for madness and flights of instability. The Navajos believed every woman must wear coral by the age of thirty as protection from forces on other planes while the Berbers believed in wearing it to guard against the evil eye. For me I feel the honor of working with it, to imagine on what women's dreams were held, what passages of time were captured in these mythical stones. Amazing to think how these beads have come to be here now on my desk, makes my heart skip a beat. In deeper Africa it was a brides price, a highly valued currency, I use these beads sparingly now, so dear and hard to find now, wherefore new trends in my design palette are sprung, spare, the weaving of which becomes its own art form.
Chapter Six
Memories going back over all the years spent in the market place until now, it is still the same!
In Marrakech I work out of some old "fondouks", former merchant hotels, centuries old, walls dank with antiquity, the air thick with past exotic travel, trade routes, stories. The seeking of treasure, bartering, it is a lifestyle here, amazes me still,is my world. From early on I started collecting, culture as seen through adornment, women's valuables, all to be outlined on a bead or configuration of knots, it became my life's work to restore and return to the stream these truly cultural artifacts for the modern day women that she might have magical armor too and walk in beauty for all women kind.
Chapter One
I grew up in my early formative years in Tripoli, Libya, the real roots of my life, my father was an Air Force Colonel, and we were stationed there. From the first moment, I loved everything, it was exotic, seductive, the air was perfumed. My mother, who was Italian, loved jewelry. We would have a driver take us to the souks many Saturday mornings, stall after stall we were treasure hunting, I was enchanted! Amazing how the casual arrangement of ones life can frame ones future, I still hold in my minds eye some of the pieces my mother had back then, continuing to inspire my design work today.
Chapter One
Chapter two
Chasing beauty, Bombay; how I loved it from the first moment, the cultural mix so intoxicating, vibrant colors and incensed airs, shrines on every corner, years of adorations, thick red ochre paste almost completely covering the image of a goddess, Ganesha or a holy cow. Each one with beads, charms, talismans, almost layered out of sight, how could I not stay here forever? I arrived in my early twenties, out to seek the world, after my studies in Switzerland, my real career path started here. How does one know the path one is taking, where it is going? The bazaars of Bombay were colossal, impassioned, fervent, they became my domain. The silver section was totally captivating, sitting cross
legged on white cotton palettes with bolsters, shoes left at the door, vast trays piled high with voluminous amount of lavaliere were brought out, it was astonishing, it was cultural, it was pure India. This is where my first collections were born, where I found my heart beat. This was school, where my eye was trained. I stayed two years.
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Amulet Market, Bangkok. Buddhist reliquaries, Buddhist temples, another world, another dimension, Southeast Asia. A different twist on amulets and talismans and other strong beliefs. To carry a thread from an enlightened monk in a gold or silver vial, this is another extent
of magic, a shred of. a robe, an image in microfilm or terra cotta, this culture has a whole other modus to adornment and defence. Upon my first encounter with this aestheticism, I fall madly in love. Rise early in this hot and sweltering, exotic city, Buddhist chants echoing from somewhere, river taxi, many monks aboard, seven stops later a series of golden temples shining bright in the sun. A short walk, the amulet market - an impact on the senses, how to focus, this is the skill I have now. I begin my search, stand by stand, I find a plethora of shapes and sizes, pleasing patinas. I work in my head, how to assign these charms and talismans to my jewelry, can’t stop to think now, the crush of the crowd, the heat. I uncover some coiled aluminium and copper wraps, this is modern art, 1000 year old design, I am in a swoon, keep going. Banded, colorful ribbons that were worn or touched or blessed by Buddhist monks or leaders, I am not sure of the hierarchy, but they are appealing and sweet, buy them all. Old ceramic beads that have pressed Buddha images that you can twirl in your fingers,
every spin a message to the universe,
very nice! I find it all very seductive and winsome, adornment and alchemy, the thread that binds, one culture to the next, our great human race, beauty above all!
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
The first time I came upon coins found in river beds, I was stunned, so gorgeous, a different kind of patina, blue/green/grey, alluring, going back to what time period, I was in a swoon. Coins first came into use around 700 B.C., how soon thereafter were they employed as ornament? The desire to adorn, right out of the cave, what was nearest? Bird feather, sticks and stones, bones, then coins, must be. I have used coins continuously, every type, shape, silver and gold, it is woman's currency. The river washed coins I found in Burma, basic metal, but the stamping beautiful, mythical creatures and the color out of this world, translating to heavenly....ancient copper and bronze, Middle Eastern coins, some so thick and weighty, originally carried around in leather pouches, these all support magic, become talismanic over time. I have been fortunate to have instinctively followed a path of aesthetics that embraced history and women's culture, beauty, art, transformation. I count my lucky stars everyday for this astonishing journey my life has been.
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Sitting at my workbench, before me a pile of coral which I started yesterday to grade. Each bead is beautiful, a world unto itself, 19th century and beyond, each one with a pleasing shape and lustre, hand drilled, each single bead was valued, treasured, a purse of hopes and dreams, armament in uncertainty. I discovered coral on my first return to North Africa since my youth, Tangier being the portal, Morocco. I fell deeply in love, again. Coral is calming, whenever I am feeling out of sorts or scattered, it is what I turn to, handling it centres me. In the olden days in Tibet, it was ground up and used as a palliative for women, a defensive for madness and flights of instability. The Navajos believed every woman must wear coral by the age of thirty as protection from forces on other planes while the Berbers believed in wearing it to guard against the evil eye. For me I feel the honor of working with it, to imagine on what women's dreams were held, what passages of time were captured in these mythical stones. Amazing to think how these beads have come to be here now on my desk, makes my heart skip a beat. In deeper Africa it was a brides price, a highly valued currency, I use these beads sparingly now, so dear and hard to find now, wherefore new trends in my design palette are sprung, spare, the weaving of which becomes its own art form.
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Memories going back over all the years spent in the market place until now, it is still the same!
In Marrakech I work out of some old "fondouks", former merchant hotels, centuries old, walls dank with antiquity, the air thick with past exotic travel, trade routes, stories. The seeking of treasure, bartering, it is a lifestyle here, amazes me still,is my world. From early on I started collecting, culture as seen through adornment, women's valuables, all to be outlined on a bead or configuration of knots, it became my life's work to restore and return to the stream these truly cultural artifacts for the modern day women that she might have magical armor too and walk in beauty for all women kind.
Chapter Six
