I did a series of work a few years ago, all pointy stone rings, commemorating the fierce battles we as women can sometimes find ourselves either waging, winning, or quite possibly, at a loss over. The nature of feminine strength has always captivated me, and in truth, is THE big reason I make jewelry. Warrior rings are a perfect nod to battles won, lost, and currently in flux.
I believe we could all use a little armor. A little pointy mother to wage our wars, give us strength, and protect our tender little hearts. So here. I bring you an old idea, a fresh stone, and a little perennial love.
A Perennial Warrior
The seasonal pull of Montana's air is palpable.
Babies have lost their spots.
Western birds are on their way to somewhere else.
Things bud and bloom and crustily find themselves
enrobed in gold, and eventually, white.
The unease of a changing season.
I feel a strong urge every time,
to pick up and fly away too.
If questioning my path, worth, and world were a profession,
I'd be the fucking CEO.
April and September and any other turned leaf in a calendar year
is code for 'PANIC!'
Are you who you want to be?
Are you planted where you will thrive?
Are you thriving?
Are you proud of what you've accomplished in the last 6 months,
and if not, why?
So much of perennial nature is embracing change.
And I do, for the most part.
I feel like I have at least made peace with a simple fact:
It is more laughable as every season comes to pass,
It's perpetual comedy, this inner terror of mine
as the first leaf changes from luscious green to fiery orange.
I AM a perennial warrior.
I have come to know that this pattern of panic is just who I am.
And I'm okay with that.
In fact, I don't think I am alone in this seasonal pull.
I think this is something humans inherently experience.
It's what to DO with that experience is what sets you apart.
I will be born every year a better version of this crunchy exoskeleton, dammit.