CND Jewelry Tales™ - My Year of Jewelry

Dance 'til dawn

2011-12-06T12:30:00.007-05:00

Analisa smiled as she pulled the zipper up the last few inches and fastened the hook at the top. She spun around, feeling the silk of her skirt swish and swirl around her thighs, gently caressing her skin. Holding her arms as if the man of her dreams were in them, she danced around the room; the walls fell away and candlelight replaced the harsh overhead lighting in her bedroom.

The dress was magic.

She slipped on her shoes, and fastened a bracelet around her wrist. Tonight was her night to shine; the dress promised romance, and she believed.

© 2011 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Tribangle

2011-06-17T23:13:00.004-04:00

Emilyanne loved to dance.

She loved to throw her head back, close her eyes and feel the music moving through her, wild and free. She made up the steps as she went along; she moved as though her muscles were a viscous liquid beneath her skin. Her arms were stringed instruments; her feet, percussive.

There was no difference between sound and movement when Emilyanne danced; she was the music given shape, she was the dance given voice. There was no beginning, there was no end; there was only now, right now.

She never wanted to stop.

© 2011 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel
Lampwork beads by Melissa Vess, Seed beads, bead-woven.

Flowers from a friend

2011-05-31T15:33:00.005-04:00

Eleanor opened her eyes and took stock; she was still here. Not that here was a bad place to be; all in all, she was glad to be here, she just couldn't shake the feeling of disappointment with her life that had been plaguing her lately. It wasn't anything she could put her finger on; nothing was wrong, exactly, it just wasn't quite right, either.

She sighed.

She couldn't even do depression right these days. That was it in a nutshell; she just didn't feel right about things any more. Everything was just a little bit off; not enough off to make it worthwhile to call attention to it and do something about it, but just enough off to make her sigh instead of smile.

She just wished that someone would notice her; she realized with a start that she desperately needed flowers from a friend. Since she couldn't make someone else send them to her, she decided to send flowers to someone else who might want them, and, perhaps, make their day. With a wry grin, Eleanor launched herself out of bed and arranged delivery.

© 2011 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel
Polymer Clay bead by Ivy Koehn of iKandiClay. Beadwoven.

Toroidal Space

2011-03-02T14:48:00.001-05:00

As long as she didn't try to make sense of it, Donna was fascinated by mathematics. It boggled the mind, actually; she was quite sure that it was really an elaborate fraud perpetuated by mathematicians; they all just pretended to understand it and laughed over jello shots in bars whose entrances were designed with fractal geometry and were therefore invisible to the rest of the world.

Donna had lots of interesting theories.

True, her eyes glazed over at the mere mention of statistical anomalies; she wouldn't know a standard deviation from a non-standard one. But she felt things. Deeply. She was a true mathematician, in a non-linear way.

© 2011 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel based on the Ionic Polyhedra Cube by beAd Infinitum.

Fairy Ladder

2011-02-15T16:41:00.010-05:00

Once upon a time, when the world was young, and Ireland was populated only by Celts, five little fairies were sent out into the world to gather dew for the queen's breakfast. They were each given a little white cup, and they promised faithfully, on their honor, to return at dawn with their cups full.

They left early (as fairies never know what will happen en route) and, as luck would have it, they arrived with plenty of time to spare. They tied their cups to a blade of grass and frolicked in the field, having a grand time. They were quite little girls, and none of them had any idea how to tell time, so of course, they played too long.

Suddenly, the sun appeared in the eastern sky in all his glory, and the fairies rushed back to collect their cups. Alas, the cups were stuck fast to the blade of grass, and no matter how hard they pulled, they could not break them free. Luckily for the little fairies, they had a godmother who loved them, and she brought each of them a new cup before the dew dried, and tied a big green leaf to the blade of grass to hide the cups that were stuck fast.

The little cups on the blade of grass looked like a ladder to the little girls, and they could not resist coming back, night after night, to play on it; climbing up the ladder and sliding down the great, green leaf. Sadly, after a couple of weeks, the little cups fell off the blade of grass and their game was over.

Until next spring, when the entire field was magically filled with lilies of the valley, just waiting for the littlest fairies to come and play.

© 2011 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel The pattern for this bangle is available in my Jewelry Tales shops.

Twelve Bar Blues

2011-01-25T22:11:00.007-05:00

Derry picked up her guitar and ran her fingers over the strings, feeling the frets under her fingertips, picking out a melody she'd known most of her life. She didn't have to be down to play the blues; but it helped. The music took the place of tears; it always had.

In her own mind she heard the rest of the band; the bass pulling the rhythm, the harp like a train in the distance, and her on the guitar. It had been years since she'd been on stage, years since they'd played together, but they were always together in her head. In a voice as rough and as nicotined-stained as her fingers, Derry sang the blues.

© 2011 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel
Lampwork beads by Melissa Vess. Bead woven.

Hugs and Kisses

2011-01-18T17:59:00.008-05:00

When her children were small, she loved to stroke their cheeks and kiss them on the tops of their heads; their hair smelled so sweet, and their skin was softer than she thought anything could be. As they grew up, she reveled in sticky kisses and exuberant hugs; even the ones that nearly knocked the wind out of her and prompted her to remind them to be gentle, telling them that mothers can break if they're not careful.

She missed grabbing them as they ran by and swinging them into her arms; she missed their childish laughter and shrieks of delight. When they were little, they were part of her; affectionate gestures came as easily and as naturally as breathing.

Now that they're grown, she has to think before she hugs; she has to judge their moods, and wait for invitations. Someday, she hopes, they'll have children of their own; children whose heads she can kiss, instead of just remembering.

© 2011 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel
Lampwork beads by Melissa Vess. Bead woven bangle; pattern available in my ArtFire and Etsy Shops.

Balancing Act

2011-01-14T15:42:00.004-05:00

She caught her handbag as it plummeted off her shoulder before the cup of coffee she was holding spilled all over her new suit. It was going to be a good day; that was the best omen she knew, even better than arriving in front of the elevator bank and finding an empty car waiting for her.

She set her cup down on her desk and put her kamikaze purse into her bottom drawer. She lowered herself gratefully into her chair and kicked off her shoes; they were gorgeous, but they pinched. Thank heavens for desks that hid everything from the waist down; her feet could recover while she checked her messages.

She dealt with her email swiftly; the delete key was her friend. Phone messages were a bit stickier; if people actually bothered to call, they usually needed some sort of a response. She was in a race against time to clear them out; her next meeting started in less than an hour. Leaving them for later was not an option. Later, there would be more.

Downing her coffee before it went cold, she set to work.

© 2011 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Personal Use and Teacher's Editions Tutorials are available in my ArtFire Shop.

There's a light

2010-12-19T14:36:00.004-05:00

Helene raised her lantern as high as she could, feeling (rather foolishly) like a girl in a gothic novel.

The fog had swept up through the canyon on the back of the wind, and it took very little imagination to turn their campsite in the California hills into a windswept moor in Victorian England.

"Heathcliff?" she whispered, and was startled to hear an answering, "Cathy?"

© 2010 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel
Trellis Series rope tutorial by NED Beads Artisan Jewelry, Ionic Polyhedra beaded beads pattern by beAd Infinitum. Hand fabricated.

Times Squared

2010-12-09T08:15:00.000-05:00

She thought about Sylvia Plath as she walked from the subway to her office. Not for the usual reasons; she wasn't a poetry groupie or the sort of person who identified with tortured souls.

No, her thoughts of Plath were purely practical.

As a teenager, she'd read The Bell Jar and remembered only one thing from it; the image of the heroine walking across New York City, late at night, counting the blocks across the grid of Manhattan to her destination. She counted them, too. And worked them into math problems.

She called then her Plath patterns.

© 2010 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel lIonic Polyhedra beaded bead designed by beAd Infinitum. Snake Chain designed by Good Quill Hunting Hand fabricated.

Skaði

2010-11-26T19:21:00.011-05:00

She cupped her hands and gently blew over her palms; the children saw only the snow, falling from her fingers. She was tall, very tall, and slim as an icicle. Her skis flew down the mountain she loved; straight as the path of an arrow, and twice as fast.

She loved winter; she was never cold, never tired of snow and ice. Her mother had known her name in the womb; Skaði, Skaði, Skaði she whispered, sending chills down her mother's spine.

© 2010 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel Glass icicle by Glasswich. Beadwoven from seed beads; embellished with quartz chips, angora rovings and vintage glass.

Darkness into light

2010-11-24T14:46:00.010-05:00

She rolled over and squinted at the clock. 3: 04. Wide awake, she'd hoped it was later than that. The light from the neighbor's yard made it look like dawn in her bedroom, even through her shades.

Groaning, she turned her face resolutely to the wall and tried to go back to sleep. It's not morning, she told herself; not even close. If I get up now, I'll be ready for bed at 7:00 tonight.

Click. The light turned itself off automatically. It was night again.

At least until the next raccoon wandered by.

© 2010 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel
Time Machine Beaded Bead Pattern by Gwen Fisher and Florence Turnour of beAd Infinitum.

Ice Queen

2010-11-13T12:27:00.003-05:00

It was snowing outside but she knew she'd never feel the cold. She would be whisked from her penthouse apartment into a heated car so fast that she wouldn't even need a wrap.

She hadn't always been rich; deep in her consciousness was a visceral memory of cold and hunger; of nearly freezing to death on nights like these. She'd hungered for everything in those days; she'd dreamed of living warm and protected. She smiled, graciously acknowledging her host and benefactor.

It was a different kind of cold.

© 2010 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel. Swarovski crystals and seed beads. Pattern available in my Artfire and Etsy Shops.

Exposed

2010-10-12T12:32:00.005-04:00

She dressed carefully, making sure that everything she wanted covered was hidden. Her makeup ritual was set in stone; she knew exactly what to use, and how to use it, in order to create her trademark flawlessly natural look.

Ditto for her clothes. The seemed to reveal all; but in the privacy of her dressing room, she was a very different creature. She was not above taping her anatomy into the contours her skin no longer assumed on their own; one did what one had to do at her age. Surgery could only go so far; there was a limit on how many times one could go under the knife without it becoming painfully obvious. She'd seen far too many horrible before-and-after photos of her contemporaries splashed across the pages of the tabloids to risk that.

They'd uncover her secrets someday; but she hoped she wouldn't live to see it.

© 2010 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel seed beads, bead-woven.

Darkness

2010-10-04T19:24:00.007-04:00

"Never mix, never worry!" Melissa thought ruefully; if that old adage were true, she knew that right about now she should be very worried, indeed. She'd started with champagne; she always started with champagne. Champagne made her happy, and she liked being happy.

It was what came later that could be a problem.

To be honest, she wasn't really sure what came later. She remembered something sweet, cold, rimmed with sugar and garnished with mint; she suspected she'd had rather a lot of them, whatever they were. Actually she could use another one; or maybe it would be safer if she switched back to wine.

No matter. She was still standing, and, as long as she could stand, she could dance.

© 2010 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, crystals, chain. Pattern available on ArtFire and Etsy.

Lotus

2010-08-06T12:47:00.013-04:00

Ariana took a deep breath and handed over her credit card. It was too much; it would take her ages to pay it off, but she didn't care. She was willing to live on pinto beans for years in order to have it. She shuddered; she knew in her heart that she'd gladly have paid twice the amount asked.

But wasn't that what money was for? To buy the things that mattered?

Ariana signed the slip with a flourish and put her card back in her wallet. It would be a long time before she could take it out again. Although she had just spend more than she made in a month; Ariana did not take debt lightly. It would be paid off before she spent another cent.

That is the price of beauty.

© 2010 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel
Seed beads, crystals. Handmade, bead woven earrings. Pattern available in my Etsy Shop.

Crowning Glory

2010-07-10T14:12:00.008-04:00

Anya brushed out her hair slowly and carefully; her dreams had not been kind to it last night. Not that she remembered them; she'd woken up as quietly and calmly as ever.

Only her hair gave witness to a restless night. She never remembered her dreams; she had no idea if they'd been bad or good. She only knew that they'd been active; she had the tangles to prove it.

Grasping the ends firmly, she wound her hair into a knot and secured it on top of her head. She never wore it down during the day; it got in her way and was hot on her back.

She always let it down at night.

© 2010 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel
Lampwork by Vanessa Hearn of Bead up a Storm, copper, seed beads, crystals and glass pearls. Bead woven.

Chain Lace

2010-06-25T23:53:00.013-04:00

The past had a hold on her that she couldn't explain. All she had to do was see a piece of lace; touch an antique locket; pull on a yellowed pair of kidskin gloves and she was lost. Lost in a world of fantasy that felt more like memory; lost in a time where elegance and manners were everything.

Hannah lived in the 21st century, but not by choice. She had learned to sew as a small girl; her stitches were even and small and often mistaken for machine stitches. She stitched all of her own clothes, by hand, working quietly at night while the rest of the world slumbered.

Each stitch was a statement, a link to a living past.

© 2010 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel
Seed beads, crystals. Bead woven bracelet. A pattern for this design is available in my Etsy Shop.

Picante

2010-05-27T22:55:00.007-04:00

Magdalena loved to dance. All it took was the hint of music and her feet started twitching; even sitting at her desk her feet beat out the rhythm of a hundred songs a day.

She found music in everything; her graceful hands swept through the air like songbirds as she spoke; her hips and shoulders keeping time as she walked.

"Magda, Magda," her mother lamented; "¡tan picante!, that one."

She was too hot; she was too spicy for her mother's comfort. There was nothing she could do about it; Magdalena was born to dance.

© 2010 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel
Bead-woven bracelet. Pattern available.

Slaying Dragons

2010-05-13T19:00:00.007-04:00

Gwennyth hated her name. It was far too romantic and silly, and she was not the type of girl who wanted to be rescued from a fire-breathing dragon by a knight in shining armor. Why couldn't she have been named something sensible and no nonsense, like Jane or Anne?

Philip was browsing through on-line profiles when he saw her name. Oddly enough, he didn't find it romantic or silly, though he did shorten it to Gwen after meeting her. She called him Phil, right from the start. Neither of them could believe that no one had ever thought to call them that before.

And they lived happily ever after.

© 2010 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel
Seed beads, crystals, brass. Hand fabricated, bead-woven necklace.

Rodeo Queen

2010-05-06T13:45:00.002-04:00

Jess loved barrel racing almost as much as she loved winning. Her adrenaline rose when she made the first mad dash into the arena, and stayed high until she crossed the finish line. She loved getting as close to the barrels as possible, and she knew just how fast and tight her horse could take every turn. They'd been together for awhile now, and she swore that he trusted her more than he trusted himself; he did whatever she asked of him, and never held back. They were a team. They won, more often than not; Jess had superb concentration and handling, and Bullroar had speed and heart.

They'd won today, and tonight Jess was celebrating. She played as hard as she worked, and tonight was no exception. Tall, lean, and muscled, she was a match for anyone at the club; unlike her horse, however, she liked her men wild and unpredictable.

Jess nearly always got what she wanted.

© 2010 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, wooden components, boulder opal, tigers eye, onyx, crystals, czech beads, leather. Hand fabricated, bead woven. Winner, Best Design Execution, Use the Muse IV.

Wind Dancer

2010-05-04T16:50:00.003-04:00

Annalisa couldn't help it if the boys preferred her; it wasn't like she meant to steal other girls' boyfriends. Quite the contrary. She did her best to discourage them; she didn't want them to fall in love with her. Yet somehow, they always did.

Oddly enough, even after their break-ups, the girls didn't blame Annalisa. She was such a sweet girl; it couldn't be her fault. To a girl, they all were glad that they'd found out how fickle and unreliable their former loves really were. They told one another that they didn't want to be going out with boys who were drawn to another girl, like a fly to honey.

It wasn't the honey's fault.

© 2010 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads. Bead weaving, hand fabricated.

Buttoned Up

2010-04-28T21:45:00.004-04:00

Maribelle had a tendency to say what was on her mind; it got her into trouble more often than not. There were times when she thought she'd like to be one of those cool, calm, collected women; the sort who had a closet full of shoes and a dozen handbags; but she wasn't, and she probably never would be.

Her feet liked comfort, and she changed her handbag when the zipper couldn't be repaired anymore.

Her mouth was like that, too. She just couldn't keep it buttoned up. Luckily, the people who stuck around appreciated her anyway.

© 2010 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel Vintage buttons, shiny brass. Hand fabricated wirework and chain maille.

Plum Lacy

2010-02-22T17:43:00.008-05:00

Lacy was appropriately named; she was, and always had been, a girly girl. It hadn't been easy, growing up in Seattle (home of grunge everything) but she had managed to live through high school, move away, and find the place where she'd always belonged.

She was a southern girl from the flip of her hair to the spectator pumps on her feet. The accent stumped her, but the look was hers. As long as she kept her mouth shut, she fancied that no one knew she hadn't lived here all her life. She actually got points for being quiet; shyness and listening were rewarded here.

And the parties! Lacy loved the parties; she finally had a closet full of pretty dresses, matching shoes and bags and plenty of places to wear them. Garden parties, afternoon teas, dinner parties, debutante parties; Lacy loved them all. She knew how to behave here.

How odd that she'd grown up in the wrong place.

© 2010 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, Swarovski crystals, glass cabuchons, Shimmerstone cabuchon by Paradox Moxie. Bead woven lace.

Wrapturous

2010-01-31T12:58:00.010-05:00

The dew was still wet on the grassy field, but here, under the trees, the carpet of pine needles was soft and dry. She had woken up before the sun and watched the light change from colorless dark to blue grey to soft pink; she continued to gaze in wonder as the endless greens of the leaves appeared and intensified.

Her world had gone from black to technicolor; every morning it was the same. She wrapped her arms around her own shoulders in an effort to warm herself; the weak morning sun did not have any heat in it yet. Smiling, she began to walk back home.

It was enough to have light.

© 2010 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, crystals, freshwater pearls. Hand fabricated. Beaded beads based on a pattern by Bead Origami.

Arwen

2009-12-31T12:12:00.007-05:00

Arwen stuck her tongue out at the retreating figure of her mother. It was childish, she knew, and not at all like anything her namesake would do, and that's why she liked doing it.

What was the big deal about Lord of the Rings, anyway? She'd been stuck with the name; she'd had to deal with moony girls and boys in high school when the movies came out, and she'd just about had it.

She was not, she repeated, not going to have a Lord of the Rings wedding. No elfin flowers, no medieval wedding dress, no church decked out like a clearing in the forest. Her nuptials would be fun; she had the Elvis Chapel in Las Vegas booked already.

This Arwen was as stubborn as the first, and every bit as willing to defy her parents.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, Swarovski crystals and pearls, freshwater pearls. Hand fabricated.

Wine Country

2009-12-17T13:00:00.001-05:00

She gave the car a little more gas coming out of a gentle curve in the road, and laughed as the wind whipped her hair across her face. On both sides of the road were vineyards as far as the eye could see; rows and rows of grapes, winding their way up and around the gentle hills.

In the spring and summer, the vines were green; but now the leaves that were left were red and brown. The grapes had been harvested, and the new vintage celebrated. Just a few weeks ago, the roads had been clogged with tourists drinking their way through the Harvest Wine Weekend; today it was completely empty and hers alone.

Another perfect day.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Copper, crystals, seed beads. Hand fabricated. This piece won a Design of Distinction in the Use the Muse III competition.

Echoes of Angels

2009-12-02T14:42:00.006-05:00

Karin was late again. It was the one thing she'd promised she'd never do again; he couldn't stand to be kept waiting, she knew that, and she'd sworn that she'd be on time tonight. Well, she could kiss that resolution goodbye. It just wasn't going to happen.

What was it about Geoff that turned her into a dithering fool? She'd never worried about her appearance with any other man, but with Geoff, she spent time she didn't have making sure that everything was exactly right. She loved how he noticed every little detail of her appearance; she loved the way he he put his hand on the small of her back and guided her into a room, subtly announcing that this beautiful woman belonged to him. She'd never had anyone expect so much from her before.

She'd always known she was beautiful, and she'd never had to do anything but throw on a pair of jeans and show up to please her previous boyfriends, but with Geoff, she felt the need to make sure every inch of her was perfectly turned out. He hated sloppiness even more than he hated being late. Time to go. Past time to go. She wondered if he would be mad, or if he would still be waiting for her. Sometimes he showed his displeasure by leaving before she arrived.

And then; quickly, obliquely, she wondered if that was what she'd wanted all along.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, Swarovski Crystals, faceted vintage glass, lampwork by Melissa Vess. Hand fabricated.

Terra Firma

2009-11-05T12:14:00.005-05:00

She scrambled up the last few yards, planting her boot in the dirt to gain a slight purchase with every step. The ground was loose here; not rocky or sandy, but soft clay, slippery and treacherous. It had slid recently, and it could slide again at any moment; she balanced her desire to move quickly with the need to test each step before making the next.

At last she reached a small ledge, just large enough to feel comfortable, and allowed herself to rest. Shading her eyes from the sun, she looked out over the valley and appreciated the feel of firm, unyielding earth beneath her feet.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Antiqued brass maille, lampwork by Melissa Vess. Hand fabricated.

Sea Foam

2009-10-28T16:52:00.007-04:00

The waves came in like wild horses, pawing the sand, snorting and tossing their heads, their manes and tails flying in the breeze. Alison closed her eyes and felt them all around her, prancing, dancing, wild and free.

She was swept up onto the back of a pure white beast; she shivered and trembled uncontrollably as the water swirled around her feet and withdrew, leaving her suddenly bereft and buried to her ankles. Before she could mourn, a new wave came in and carried her away again; it left her buried deeper, and then deeper again.

How long could she stand there before she disappeared entirely?

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, sterling silver, Swarovski crystals and pearls. Hand fabricated.

Splash

2009-10-15T14:16:00.003-04:00

She knew she shouldn't, but that made it all the harder to resist. He was asleep; asleep on a raft in the middle of the lake. She had no idea where he'd come from; she'd never seen him before. She should simply swim away and leave him to his slumbers; she tried mightily to resist. She even swam off twice, but she came back each time.

He was such a tempting target.

He looked like a nice guy, actually; not too good looking, but not unattractive, either; not the sort who looked as if he would take himself too seriously and get really mad. But still. At the very least, it would be a rude thing to do. Mean, almost. He was sleeping so peacefully; what right she to wake him?

Regretfully, her better nature won out. She turned to leave for the last time, and found herself the recipient of a mighty splash. Drenched and grinning, she defended herself.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver, 3mm amethyst. Hand fabricated.

Red Hot Mama

2009-09-08T19:07:00.006-04:00

Cassie would never do it, of course, but it was fun to think about it. What if she did wear red lace under her jeans and T-shirt? Would the earth stop spinning? No, indeedy. No one would know except her; why was it so unthinkable to wear something so pretty and girly?

Resolutely, she closed the catalog and sighed. She opened it just a little bit, just enough to see those red lace undies one more time. Cowgirl pants, they were not. No way, no how. Likely, they'd ride up and pinch; goodness only knew where they'd get stuck after an hour or two on horseback. They were not practical; nope, not practical at all. Not her sort of thing.

With a sly grin, Cassie pulled her credit card out of her wallet, picked up the phone and dialed.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Gold-filled, brass, and copper chain maille. Lampwork by Melissa Vess. Hand fabricated.

Grab the brass ring

2009-08-28T12:27:00.008-04:00

Serena had never believed in luck. Good fortune was made, not stumbled upon. She never read her horoscope, and was the only person she knew who liked fortune cookies for the taste. When other girls plucked the petals off daisies and were delighted or horrified by the turnout, Serena had always laughed.

So why was she suddenly looking for omens?

She'd gone as silly as any love-struck teenager, and she didn't like it one little bit. She'd lost her confidence, and she had no clue how to get it back.

What a ridiculous merry-go-round the world had become; she was more than ready to get off.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Brass Filigree, folded and soldered. Hand fabricated.

"I'm with the band"

2009-08-03T17:24:00.005-04:00

She was underage, so she kept her head down and her arms full, blocking as much of her face and torso as possible with amplifiers, guitars, and drums as she went back and forth from the truck to the stage. She'd been told to keep her mouth shut and avoid eye contact; if anyone said anything to her she was to say as curtly as possible, "I'm with the band."

Last night she'd practiced exactly that; scowling, looking fierce, and growling out her one line. It had taken a few tries to get in character; even now she had difficulty hiding the grin that wanted to light up her face. Who'd have thought she'd have the nerve to do this? She was a roadie. Okay, not exactly a roadie, they'd only traveled a few miles from her home to get here, but she'd ridden in the back of the van, and she was unloading the band's equipment pretty much all by herself.

She ducked behind the largest amplifier and tried to look tough. "I'm with the band," she thought. "I'm really, really with the band."

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, crystals, pearls, gemstones. Hand fabricated. Pattern available at Jewelry Tales on Etsy.

Net options

2009-07-17T20:13:00.005-04:00

She tapped the on button and waited, drumming her fingers absentmindedly on her desk as the computer made its usual thrumming and grinding noises; she knew the exact moment it would sing the refrain that meant "get to work." She took a last sip of coffee just before the first note, knowing that by the time she thought about it again, her coffee would be stone cold.

She began her research where she'd left off last night; one page led to another as she watched information swirl before her eyes in a wild dance on the screen. She quickly cut and pasted relevant bits into a scratch file to sort out later; she didn't believe in mixing gathering with comprehension. She would analyze and digest the information later; now, anything that looked as thought it might be relevant was simply captured and caged.

Penelope loved options.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, beadweaving, glass pearls, glass beads, button clasps. Hand fabricated.

Rock pool

2009-07-07T11:32:00.004-04:00

She arched her back and let her hair fall back into the water; she stretched her arms toward the sky and felt the soft warmth of the sun on her skin. With no prior thought, she pushed off the rock and was gliding backwards through the water; she turned and dove deeply.

Her hair streaming out behind her, she swam until she was exhausted. Then, perched on a rock on the edge of the pool, her hair curling wetly over her breasts and back, she smiled.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, Czech glass, Swarovski crystals and pearls. Beaded Bead patterns by Jewelry Tales and Bead Origami. Hand fabricated.

Moonlight Lace

2009-06-29T12:46:00.006-04:00

The moon was pale and soft; dawn was just beginning to lighten up the early morning sky. The streaky pinks and blues were barely beginning to glow over the eastern hills; they were more of a promise than a reality.

When was the last time she'd stayed up all night? School, probably; studying for some test, totally unaware of the beauty she now enjoyed. She eased off her shoes, rubbed her toes, and relished the feel of the cool air on her aching feet.

The moon hung low on the horizon, huge and seemingly translucent, showing its reluctance to disappear.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, Swarovski Crystals, brass. Hand fabricated.

Lacy Lapis

2009-06-22T18:54:00.003-04:00

Before she even knew what it looked like, she'd fallen in love with Lapis Lazuli. It was such a lovely name to say; exotic, poetic, and alliterative. It simply had to be the most beautiful stone in the world.

As a child, she'd been fascinated by archeology; that was where she'd first heard of Lapis Lazuli. It was, she felt, a kingly stone; why else would all those Pharaohs have had so many things made from it? She imagined it as the purest, richest of blues, with highlights of gold. In her dreams, her arms were always covered in fabulous bracelets; with stones as blue as the deepest glacial lakes.

Nothing else ever came close.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Brass, Lapis Lazuli, seed beads. Hand fabricated.

Edwardian Splendor

2009-06-18T12:36:00.006-04:00

"Sugar or lemon?" Annalise just loved hearing that; it made her feel as if she were in an old movie. She'd watched hundreds of old movies; the black and white world of the 1930s pretending to be the early 1900s was her time and place.

Closing her eyes, she drifted into a world of urbane and sophisticated people, beautifully dressed, and utterly cool and elegant. She joined them in a Spanish garden, next to a plashing fountain that cooled the sun-drenched courtyard.

"Lemon."

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, peridot, brass button clasp. Hand fabricated.

Net of Dreams

2009-06-16T21:44:00.003-04:00

Sophie had big plans. She wouldn't always live this way; no, she knew that one day, her ship would come in, and she'd get on it and sail away. She preferred to think about that day than to think about this one; today had most definitely not been a day out of her dreams.

She worked hard; she really did. But that didn't seem to matter to her boss; to him, she was a convenient whipping-girl. Whatever went wrong, it was somehow her fault; today, she'd been blamed for something that went wrong in a meeting that she hadn't even attended. She'd just stood there, mouth agape, listening to him rant. Getting through the rest of the day had been hard.

But she was home now; home alone, with her own thoughts and dreams.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, brass, vintage button. Hand fabricated.

Time and Tides

2009-06-14T07:00:00.010-04:00

Geni didn't know which surprised her more: that the bubble worked, or that she'd actually needed it. But that was her luck in a nutshell; she was always doing the right thing for the wrong reasons. Buying the bubble had been her most ridiculous purchase to date; motivated more by a sideways look in a certain pair of dark brown eyes than by any practical necessity. "Face it," Bronwyn had chided her, "You're a sucker for a man with puppy dog eyes."

It wasn't just his eyes. Eugenia let her mind wander from the situation at hand, remembering the lithe shape of the inventor and the way his tongue had snaked out between his lips when he paused for thought. She'd have to look that one up again and thank him when she got back.

If she got back.

Snapped back to reality with that thought, Geni peered out of the bubble into the sea, watching abstractedly as several fish swam by. Her unplanned Flight of Fancy had apparently dropped her not on land, but fathoms under the sea. It was something that had been suspected by the small faction her inventor belonged to; for once in her life she was glad she was a sucker.

As the bubble drifted slowly skyward, Eugenia let her mind wander over all her memories of the occasion that had made this bubble a reality. By the looks of things, she'd have plenty of time to enjoy every minute of it all over again.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, Swarovski Crystals and pearls, freshwater pearls, watch parts, brass, lampwork fish and disc by Melissa Vess, polymer clay face by Kristie-Lou Brigham of Sculpted Wndows. Hand fabricated.

Out on the town

2009-06-03T20:46:00.006-04:00

Anjelica couldn't decide whether to dress up or down, so she threw on a little bit of both. Jeans, of course; skin-tight to show off her butt, and jeweled flip-flops. A plain white T? or a glam, vintage sequined top? The sequins won out, they nearly always did.

She rummaged around in her jewelry box, looking for sparkle. When she was done, bangles marched up and down her arms, and every finger sported a different type of ring. Her earrings brushed her shoulders, but the only ornament around her neck was her own skin.

She grabbed a slouchy leather backpack, tossed in her evening essentials, and was gone.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Brass, seed beads, rose quartz. Hand fabricated.

Orchids

2009-05-25T18:29:00.003-04:00

Eleni tied her sarong around her hips and added a bit more kohl to her eyes. This was not the time to be subtle; she was on vacation and free to do whatever she wanted. He skin glowed with color from her afternoon on the beach, and her hair was freshly washed and silky soft. She smoothed frangipani scented lotion on her skin; a splurge in the hotel gift shop, but one she would never regret.

On her way out, she impulsively put one orchid behind her ear; as she'd noted earlier, this was no time to be subtle.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads. Hand fabricated.

Tide pools

2009-05-23T17:46:00.007-04:00

She struggled to keep her balance, and mercifully, she succeeded. Hopping from rock to rock while waves crashed just inches from her tennis shoes was probably not one of her better ideas, but she couldn't resist. She hadn't explored tide pools since she was a young girl; just the idea had made her feel twenty years younger.

As she had so very many years ago, she kept a running list of her finds in her head. Sea anemones were by far the most common, followed by the little clams and hermit crabs. It still startled her to reach for a pretty shell and have it run off; or worse, poke out a leg when she picked it up. Kelp, certainly. But she had also seen a couple of starfish, and some shells that she could not identify.

As she worked her way across, her balance improved. She still had it.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver, lampwork by Donna Millard of Donna Millard Art Glass Beads and Jewelry. Hand fabricated.

Itsy Bitsy

2009-05-19T14:54:00.004-04:00

Betsy stood in the dressing room and laughed. It was either that, or cry; and she was tired of crying. No one, absolutely no one, felt sorry for her; everyone thought it was funny that even size 000 jeans hung on her like a sack.

Betsy was tiny, and that was putting it mildly. Barely four feet ten inches on tiptoe, and very slim; if she could just resize herself about ten or twenty percent larger, she'd be happy. She stuck her tongue out at her reflection in the mirror and wondered if she would ever fit into adult clothes. Not this week; nope, she may have celebrated her sweet 16 last week, but her birthday money would be spent in the children's department.

Again.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, rubies, swarovski crystals, gold-filled. Hand fabricated.

Lagoon

2009-05-17T18:27:00.006-04:00

The water was warm; it felt soft against her skin as she left the shore and slowly worked her way past the stones and plants that kept the timid out. The night was cool, but the shallow water had stored up the heat of the day and felt good. Waist-deep; she bent her knees, and felt the warmth slide over her shoulders and up her neck.

In the moonlight, the surface of the lagoon glowed; beneath the water, all was dark and hidden. She dove deep and disappeared.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, Cech glass, Swarovski pearls and crystals. Strung on sterling silver wire. Hand fabricated.

Geode

2009-05-15T15:01:00.004-04:00

Marina walked along, looking at the ground beneath her feet, repeating to herself, "round, egg like? bumpy . . ."

She wanted desperately to find a geode, so she picked up every likely candidate and dropped it into the canvas bag that she had slung over her shoulder. It was getting heavy, so she took a moment to set it down, swallowed a slug of water from her canteen, rubbed her sore shoulder and decided to try the bag on her other side for awhile.

When she filled the bag, she got back into her car and drove home; tomorrow she would take them in and get them sliced. As she drove, she imagined a wealth of crystals revealed by the lapidary's blade.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, crystals, glass pearls. Hand fabricated.

Sweetness and Light

2009-05-14T12:15:00.006-04:00

Peggy stretched and realized that she was hungry. It was time for a break, and she'd brought in a basket of cookies that she'd baked last night. As she headed off to the break room with her basket and her coffee cup, she noticed that she was gaining a following. As she passed each office, the scent of chocolate and butter was drawing people away from their desks.

She set the basket down on the table, and, with a cheery, "Help yourselves!" she went to the coffee maker and filled her cup.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, freshwater pearls, Swarovski cyrstals. Hand fabricated.

Round and Round

2009-05-13T15:03:00.004-04:00

"Round and Round I go," Tricia found herself humming that song again. She shook her head, trying to rid it from her mind. It wasn't that she didn't like the song; it was just that that particular line of it was far too apt these days. She was constantly doing the same thing; and, worst of all, without any different results.

"Didn't someone say that was the definition of insanity?" she put her hand over her mouth, realizing that she'd spoken the words out loud. Talking to oneself was another sure sign; that's it, she was becoming deranged.

She laughed; whatever else she was, Tricia was always quick to see the absurdity of life.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, garnets. Hand fabricated.

Wireless

2009-05-07T22:49:00.004-04:00

She grabbed her iPod and was out the door before anyone saw her. She sent a quick text from the front porch, before going out of range, to let Jaime know she was on her way. There were lots of open wireless networks between here and there, but she figured she might as well take advantage of her home 'net.

Earphones in place, she swung her bag over her shoulder and was gone.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Onyx, seed beads. Hand fabricated.

Flight of Fancy

2009-05-03T08:35:00.003-04:00

Eugenia always held her breath when the pressure started to build; although Bronwen laughed at her, she really did need to silence her own respiration in order to hear the steam from the tiny boiler fill the pipes. She knew every pop, ping and wheeze; the engine told her when it was ready. All she had to do was keep the fire going, and listen.

Time. She needed more time; she wasn't going to have enough time. Very, very gently she fanned the fire, urging the water to boil. The grounded ones were nearly upon her; she could hear them in the middle distance, the cadence of their engines indicating speed, the song of their steam mocking her own efforts. They didn't know how to make flights of fancy, and she wasn't going to be the one who gave up her steam to change that.

Bronwen would give her grief for not filing a flight plan; but truly, she did not have time to plan this flight, let alone time to let anyone know she was going. She grinned; heck, even she didn't know where, or when, she was going. She would have to take her chances with space and time and work out the details of getting back when she got wherever, or whenever, it was she went. If she had enough time to leave, that is; she was hopeful, but not at all certain. She listened carefully, resisting the impulse to drum her fingers against the boiler to make some noise. At last it began to build: steam, steam; beautiful steam; pop, ping, wheeze.

Eugenia held her breath, set the dials, and vanished.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, brass, Swarovski crystals, vintage watch parts. Hand fabricated.

Diamond Dreams

2009-04-24T18:33:00.005-04:00

Unlucky at cards, lucky in love. How many times had she heard that? She looked at her hand and sighed. Too bad her love life wasn't any better.

"Fold."

She tossed her cards down on the table and allowed herself to daydream as the rest of the players played out the hand. Wouldn't it be fun to see a fan of diamonds . . . in her hand, on her hand . . .

Deal.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, sterling silver, Swarovski crystals. Hand fabricated. Tutorial available on Etsy.

Woodland Treasure

2009-04-22T12:19:00.004-04:00

Big Sur was probably her favorite place on earth. She loved everything about it; the drive up the coast was inspiring enough, but turning away from the ocean and entering the forest was even more wonderful. The trees towered over her, making her feel safe and protected. The mosses and lichens were tiny worlds unto themselves; she felt as though she were comfortably in the middle; just the right size.

From far away, an owl called; dusk was upon her.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, Swarovski crystal, gold-filled, lampwork by NValentine Studio. Hand fabricated.

Caribbean Sea

2009-04-08T12:15:00.004-04:00

She turned her face into the soft sunlight, relishing the breeze that gently lifted her hair and caressed her body. It was hard to believe that just yesterday she'd left snow on the ground and sub-zero temperatures. The water here was so blue; blue in shades that she'd never seen anywhere else.

As she stood on the sand, she felt warm for the first time in months. She stretched languorously, feeling the sun on every inch of her skin. She started walking, slowly at first, then faster and faster as she was drawn, inexorably, to the sea. Without a worry in the world, she let herself slide beneath the gentle waves.

She was home.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, Swarovski crystals, lampwork by Melissa Vess of Wearable Art Glass by Melissa Vess. Hand fabricated.

Fissures

2009-04-01T12:56:00.005-04:00

She'd learned a long time ago not to try to fill in the cracks. Maintaining a veneer just wasn't worth the time and effort; she was what she was, and anyone who minded could just go whistle up the tracks. She cared deeply, and all that caring left deep fissures in her soul; crevasses in the rock of her being, rough places that she took a certain pride in not hiding.

She liked to think that the structures she'd built across the ravines made them beautiful; that the tears which had brought rivers and cascades to her landscape had also nurtured the abundant wildflowers. She'd decorated herself from adversity; she wasn't pretty, but she had a presence that was undeniable.

Every blow had made her stronger; she loved them all for that.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, Swarovski crystals and components, ceramic by Lean Dog Pottery. Hand fabricated.

Scarlett Sings

2009-03-24T11:05:00.000-04:00

Her nerves were gone. Just like that. No more anxiety; no apprehension at all. All week, her fear had been building to a fever pitch; she had been certain that tonight she would collapse like a soufflé, her insides runny and sad, the rest of her crumpled into a heap. But no. Mercifully, she was intact. Intact and unafraid.

Scarlett looked at herself in the mirror and was sure. She was ready. Everything in her life had led up to this moment; every day had been only a rehearsal for this night. She ran through a vocalise for confirmation; her voice was rich and easy. She smiled; a dazzling smile of pure joy, and opened her dressing room door. Carefully, she walked out to the wings; her cue would come soon. The orchestra swelled, and her heart rose with the sound.

She was on.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Brass filigree and chain maille, seed beads, swarovski crystals and pearls, cubic zirconia. This necklace won first place in the Use the Muse contest. Hand fabricated.

Spring Fever

2009-03-11T16:45:00.010-04:00

Katinka stretched, opened her eyes, and knew. It was here. No doubt about it. She flung open her window and laughed; the morning air was cold, cold, cold, but spring was definitely here. She sang in the shower and danced while she did her hair and makeup. Getting dressed, she went straight for the brightest colors she owned; this was not a day where she could be content to fade into the woodwork.

Fruit! She suddenly craved some; she cut up the mango she'd bought the other day in anticipation of spring, and felt her knees go weak with its juicy sweetness. She ate ravenously, recklessly; the fragrance of its flesh filling her nostrils, and its soft, slippery pulp sliding down her throat.

Looking at her bare feet in their strappy sandals, she kicked up her heels and laughed. Spring. Finally, finally, it was here.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Hand fabricated from seed beads. The flower is based on a pattern from the April Bead and Button Magazine by Melissa Grakawsky.

Floating

2009-01-16T14:47:00.004-05:00

She closed her eyes and pretended that the whole mess simply didn't exist. The angry teenagers exchanging unpleasnatries weren't hers, the living room did not look like a tornado had struck, and she didn't live in a suburb outside of New York city.

She was floating on gentle waves on a Caribbean sea. Supported by the warm, salty water, she felt her body go limp, as every muscle was soothed and massaged by the constant motion of the ocean that cradled her. The only sounds were the wind and the waves, with a lilting reggae tune coming from far, far away.

In her heart, she danced.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, Sterling silver, lampwork by Gail Kops of Beadles. Hand woven in the Saraguro style.

Embers

2009-01-14T14:28:00.008-05:00

It was late. Very late. The fire had died down to almost nothing; she hadn't been paying attention, and, with a sudden start, she realized how very cold she was. How could she have let this happen?

Berating herself for not noticing, she pulled out some kindling and made a careful structure above the last remaining embers; she laid each piece carefully so as not to smother the few precious bit of fire. When she had laid the last one, she blew very gently on the barely glowing red coals; they brightened, and she was hopeful.

Gently, gently, she blew again.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed bead bracelet. Hand woven. Based on a tutorial from Jubeads Box.

Searching for spring

2009-01-04T15:06:00.008-05:00

Christmas was over, and she was ready for spring. That was one of the pleasures of living on the west coast; spring would arrive when the northeast was still snowed in. But it wasn't here quite yet. Impatiently, she haunted hardware stores and nurseries; still the same old mix of discounted (and sad looking) fall flowers and leftover holiday pots.

The bare root roses offered a promise of summer; she had already bought a few and planted them in a sunny corner. A couple of them were already showing green buds where their leaves would be; she couldn't wait to see them unfurl.

Maybe next week.

© 2009 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver earrings. Hand fabricated.

Night Flight

2008-12-19T12:36:00.007-05:00

The moon was low in the sky and golden; it lit up the soft earth and called to her in a way that she couldn't explain to anyone. She stretched, as though she had slept too long; extending first one limb, and then another, testing them before giving them her trust and her weight.

In a sudden silent sweep of wings, she was gone. Gone as if she had never been; hunting alone in the night for what sustained her.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Glass beads, tiger's eye, onyx, gold-filled findings. Porcelain owl by Laura Mears of Beyond Beads. Hand fabricated, bead embroidery, bead weaving.

In the private collection of Claudia Newcomer

Tropical Island Mood

2008-11-09T12:25:00.007-05:00

It was too cold to pretend; she had to put on her boots and jacket to get the mail. She hated to give in to it; but last night's snow made her face reality. The path would be icy, and running was out. She'd freeze before she got back unless she bundled up.

Stepping off the porch, she felt her feet slide; bending her knees, she did the Minnesota shuffle down to the street. Halfway there, she could see the unmistakable silhouette of a little parcel hanging in a bag on her mailbox; what could it be? She couldn't remember ordering anything, and it was too early yet for Christmas.

She reached the mailbox, picked up her post, and shuffled back to the house. Eagerly, she removed her boots and jacket and reached for her box. She quickly sliced through the tape and opened the box. What on earth?!?!? a bag of tiny, gaily colored paper umbrellas and a package of piña colada mix. Humming happily, she fell instantly into a tropical island mood.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed and fringe beads, gold-filled findings. Hand fabricated, princess length necklace.

With special thanks to Gwwn Fisher of BeAd Infinitum, for teaching me to think about beads in a new way.

Bling in the afternoon

2008-11-07T19:18:00.007-05:00

One of the best parts about getting older is not having to follow the rules. Oh, the big rules still apply; she wasn't that far gone. But the little rules; the ones about what to wear, and when to wear it: those were officially over. Life was too short.

Evening wear? Snort. It's afternoon wear, now.

Why hadn't she realized this decades ago?

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads and Swarovski crystals. Based on Kepler's Star, a weave by Gwen Fisher of BeAd Infinitum. Hand fabricated.

In the private collection of Ida Newcomer

Cranberry Relish

2008-11-03T12:48:00.007-05:00

She swirled the cranberries in a sink full of water, picking out any that were soft, removing leaves and stems, and letting the inevitable crop of stones settle to the bottom. When she thought she'd finished picking them over, she scooped out the berries, one handful at a time, and placed them into a medium pot, finding a few more stems in the process. She grated the zest from two oranges on top of the berries, and squeezed the juice and pulp over that.

The sugar was next; this was always a guessing game. She added about half a cup; that was never quite enough, but it was better to start tart. After adding enough port wine to cover the berries, she turned on a medium flame and began stirring. She brought the liquid to a slow boil, and turned down the flame to keep it there.

As the berries darkened and popped, the sauce began to thicken. Stirring constantly, she amused herself by smashing the deep red berries against the side of the pot with her spoon. When all the berries had darkened and the sauce was thick, she tasted it; lips puckering, she gradually added more sugar, one spoonful at a time, stirring all the while, until it was just barely sweet enough.

She took the pot off the fire and went on to her next task.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads. Hand fabricated princess length collar using off-loom techniques.

Audrey

2008-10-30T13:04:00.005-04:00

Audrey slipped off her jacket as she entered the greenhouse; her orchids lived in a steamy world of their own that had no relationship to the frigid New England wind that was already promising snow. She checked each plant carefully; noting bud and bloom, looking for any sign of disease or pests. The first few minutes were always tense ones; this was her special world, and she would let nothing harm her plants.

Happily, nothing was threatening them today. There were some new blooms to admire; and a few that had passed their prime and needed pinching. She stretched luxuriously in the soft warm air, letting her shoulders relax and putting all thoughts of her day out of her head. This was what she was meant to do; this was what she did best.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, sterling silver, Dichroic glass by Paula Radke. Hand fabricated, bead-woven collar.

Butterscotch Creme

2008-10-13T20:36:00.005-04:00

She let the silky sweetness gather in her mouth; butterscotch creme was more than just a treat, it was a trip back in time. Her Papa had always had butterscotch in his shirt pocket, and he always offered them to her, right away, holding them out before she even came into the house. She never, ever had to ask.

For awhile, after he died, she couldn't bear the smell of butterscotch; its sticky sweetness was repulsive and cloying to her senses. But now, nearly forty years later, it had found the power to open her heart again.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads. Based on Kepler's Star, a bead weaving pattern created by Gwen Fisher of BeAd Infinitum. Hand fabricated.

Transported

2008-09-25T13:00:00.006-04:00

"Where am I?" She sat up, heart pounding, with no idea of how she had gotten here, or, indeed, where 'here' was. Trees. Her mind registered trees. Tall trees. Lots of trees. A forest. Okay, she was in a forest. It was a rather nice forest; the ground was soft and mossy; the air was comfortably cool, and it was shady, but not too dark.

Looking more closely, she identified pine, and hemlock, and perhaps an oak over there; but trees were not reliable landmarks, it was not in the least like recognizing restaurants or boutiques. One could simply not place oneself with any confidence by identifying trees.

Surely she was dreaming? No, this was entirely too real. She gradually became aware that her jeans and t-shirt had been replaced by a gown of something soft and perfectly fitted to her; she stretched, and it stretched with her. Her feet were sheathed in boots of the finest leather; they were quite the prettiest shoes she'd ever seen. She turned her foot one way, and then the other; admiring the look even more than the fit.

"How odd," she thought. "I really should mind this more than I do."

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, vintage glass, and lampwork by Melissa Vess of Inner Realm Creations. Hand fabricated, princess length necklace using traditional needlelace techniques in beads.

I thee wed

2008-09-17T21:20:00.011-04:00

How long had she been planning this day? Since before she could remember, she'd dreamt of being a bride. She lifted the lid of the old cedar chest that would one day be hers, and gently took out her great-grandmother's veil. The silk netting was gossamer thin and the color of heavy cream; the lace was handmade and as delicate as a spider's web. Under it was more silk; yards and yards of embroidered antique silk, gathered onto a bodice that clung to her every curve and fit like a dream.

She'd always known that she would wear these things; she'd grown up looking into this cedar chest and dreaming of this day. She didn't want a new dress, a new veil, a trip to a trendy and expensive fashion designer's salon. She wanted to greet this day clothed in all the love and lace that her mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother had handed down; she wanted to bring that love to her husband and share it with him.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, freshwater pearls and gold-filled findings. Hand woven and embroidered bead lace. Hand fabricated.

A matter of perspective

2008-09-06T11:51:00.007-04:00

She looked out her kitchen window at the waves, and found herself unconsciously moving in concert with them. She picked up a dish from the counter, dipped it in the soapy water, and set it in the dishwasher with the same tumbling motion of the sea. Her fingers whirled and dove like pelicans, dislodging the bits of stuck food and retrieving errant silverware from the bottom of the sink.

How many meals had she planned, cooked, served, and cleaned up after in her lifetime? Perhaps not as many as grains of sand, but more than she could calculate. Every move was now automatic; she no longer thought about it. Her mind was free to focus on the view; she danced in the waves and soared with the gulls.

Pop! went the plug, and the dirty water swirled down the drain.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver, lampwork by Melissa Vess of Inner Realm Creations. Hand fabricated, filigree and chain maille, necklace and earrings set.

In private collection

Sand and sky

2008-09-03T13:09:00.009-04:00

It was after Labor Day, and she was on the beach. In her swimsuit. Her mother would have been horrified; when she was growing up in New York, swimsuits were banished the day after Labor Day. She remembered swimming all day long, trying to store up enough of the slippery cool wetness and hot sun on her back to last a whole winter.

Not that winter started the day after Labor Day; nope, even in New York there were lots of warm days left after Labor Day. The lake stayed warm and inviting right into October, some years. But no one went swimming after Labor Day. Not ever. And, after awhile, she'd stopped asking why, stopped trying to argue her swimsuit back down from the attic, and absorbed the rule into her own way of looking at the world.

There was no swimming after Labor Day.

But here, on the California Coast, they didn't seem to know that rule. She wasn't alone on the beach; there were lots of other people basking in the sun and cavorting in the waves. Toddlers building sand castles with their young mothers; older couples walking hand in hand on the hard sand; single people, like her, their towels and cell phones marking their boundaries and connections to the real world. She made circles in the sand with her big toe for awhile, checked her messages; then, self-consciously, got up and strolled down to the ocean.

Looking furtively around for any sign of her childhood, she defiantly waded into the surf.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

14k gold-filled chain maille, seed beads, and lampwork beads by Melissa Vess of Inner Realm Creations. Hand fabricated, bead embroidery princess length necklace.

Mermaid's song

2008-08-20T15:56:00.007-04:00

He squinted and put his hand up to shade his eyes. What was that? Kelp? Maybe an otter enjoying a breakfast of abalone, tossing the shells into the wind?

The early morning sun was surely playing tricks on him; that was not a woman out there, her hair floating on the waves, yards and yards and yards of it, entwined with bits and pieces of shell. Surely that was not an arm, raised to the sky in a languid stretch; that could not be a tail, it must be simply an ocean swell.

From far away, he heard a woman singing, the ocean breeze making it sound as if it were coming from just beyond the waves, teasing him with an unrecognizable melody in the sweetest voice he'd ever heard. He'd never realized, until just this moment, how very lonely and utterly alone he was.

Reluctantly he forced himself to turn and walk back to his car; if he did not, he would surely drown.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver, seed beads, paua shell, freshwater pearls. Bead woven, hand fabricated, princess length necklace.

Finding strength

2008-08-04T14:02:00.005-04:00

"Hang being strong, anyway," she thought, resisting the rebellious impulse to kick something. Suddenly feeling as if she were thirteen years old again was not a pleasant feeling. Thirteen hadn't been good the first time around, and she had no intention of doing it again.

"Take a deep breath," she told herself, but the tears wouldn't stop. What was up with that? She was a grown woman; strong, secure, comfortable with herself. She'd laid these demons to rest years ago, or at least she thought she had. It was terrifying how quickly they took up residence in her mind; rearranging the furniture and painting the walls a terrifying shade of insecurity.

One finger at a time, she opened the fists she'd made.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Turquoise, Coral, glass beads and gold-filled maille. Hand fabricated choker length necklace.

Where my heart takes me

2008-07-24T20:59:00.004-04:00

"It's always dawn somewhere," she told herself, "and every dawn is a new beginning." Where would she be when the sun rose this morning? She'd crossed two times zones in three days, and found herself getting up an hour earlier each time. Her body clock refused to be set back; she'd gone from missing the sunrise, to seeing it, to anticipating it. She was becoming quite comfortable with the darkness before the dawn.

She was also getting to know open-all-night, drive-through restaurants. They were the only ones serving breakfast at this hour, and she was ravenously hungry. She'd have a proper meal later, when the rest of the world was awake, but she had miles and miles of desert to cross before then.

Not a cloud in the sky. Just the first signs of the streaky pink and grey that would later brighten with the glow of the sun and turn a brilliant shade of blue. She tossed her heart over the distant mountains and followed it.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Necklace made from seed beads, with sterling silver clasp. Hand fabricated.

In private collection

Where the road goes

2008-06-22T09:06:00.009-04:00

She picked up her rucksack and slung it in the back of her car. She'd whittled her life down to the road that stretched ahead of her, a few changes of clothes, and her tools. Everything else was bought, sold, and bartered along the way. She slipped gingerly behind the wheel; the seat was hot and her legs were bare. The car started after a couple of tries; its battery was going, but it wasn't gone yet.

Where would she go today? The gas gauge hovered between half and three quarters full; more than enough to get to the next town. Good. She'd had enough of this one.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, freshwater pearls, sterling silver, lampwork by Donna Millard. Hand fabricated.

Crazy Quilt

2008-06-12T16:41:00.014-04:00

Hand made things had to be useful on a farm in North Dakota in the early 1900s; like so many other women of her generation, Mary Jane McFadden spent her time making quilts and clothing to keep her children warm. But as the children grew, as the boys left home and the girls learned to sew their own clothes, her heart yearned to make something pretty; something that was every bit as decorative as it was useful.

All her life, she'd saved scraps; bits of wool and cotton, mostly, but here and there a piece of velvet, satin or silk had come her way. As she sorted through them, she found remnants of the dress Pearl took her first steps in, Effie's high school graduation gown (the first in her family to finish high school), generations of trousers for the boys, and her own wedding dress.

She took out the largest pieces of muslin she could find, and began piecing a crazy quilt on them. On it, she appliqued initials and other symbols that held special meanings for her; she used every scrap of beauty that had ever come her way. Although she died before she finished her quilt of many colors, it was a labor of love, done just to please her own eyes.

Many, many years later, when little Effie was a grandmother herself, she gave the unfinished quilt to her eldest granddaughter. They worked on it together; carefully finishing the quilting with fancy embroidery stitches and repairing the frayed edges with scraps from their own lives.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver, iolite, citrine, freshwater pearls, and seed bead embroidered collar with lampwork by Lisa Atchison of Touch of Glass Designs. Hand fabricated.

Sisters

2008-05-26T15:27:00.004-04:00

Sometimes sisters aren't born into a family; sometimes, they find each other later than that. I am fortunate enough to have both kinds; I have sisters whom I waited to see born, and sisters whom I have met in all stages of my life.

Sisters who accepted and loved me as a lonely and awkward teen; sisters who counseled and comforted me in the early, very scary, days of being a mom. Sisters who have tested my faith; and sisters who have carried me when my faith was low. I have sisters who share the day to day minutia of my life, and sisters who can be counted on to drop everything to be there when I need them.

The older I get, the more I appreciate my sisters. These are the women who know me and love me just as I am; the women who listen to me without judging me; the women who lift me up and let me cherish them. I would not be here without you; always remember that.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Bead embroidery collar on leather, with seed beads, turquoise, amber, myrrh, pearls and copper. Cherry wood cabochon inlaid with turquoise by TazWood Finely Turned Creations. Hand fabricated.

Take the Plunge

2008-05-14T08:49:00.011-04:00

Marti took a deep breath and jumped. She knew that if she thought about it, she'd find reasons not to do it, and, right now, she wanted to do it. She felt the water close over her head, and she pushed her panic away. It would be okay. She would make it okay.

How could she explain this feeling when she didn't really understand it herself? The rush of giving herself up to the moment; the exhilaration of just acting, without always thinking about thinking things through. It was the only thing she trusted, and if it let her down, well, she'd deal with the fallout. She had to have this escape; she couldn't be expected to control everything all the time.

Just as she felt that her lungs would surely burst, she surfaced. Safe again.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Seed beads, sterling silver, and vintage glass cabochons in a princess length necklace. Hand fabricated; bead weaving and chain maille.

I'm a Fossil

2008-05-12T19:33:00.008-04:00

Fifty. How did I get to be fifty? It seems only yesterday that I was in my twenties, or at least, thirty-something. I didn't notice the changes as they happened; it still startles me sometimes to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. That's not what I look like! I'm so much younger than that.

But there it is: In ten days, I'll be fifty.

Half a century behind me. If genetics hold true, I have a good chance of seeing another half-century. But even if I'm past the half-way mark, it's been a good run. I've seen, done, and learned a lot in the past fifty years. And, God-willing, I'll have a lot more to learn, see, and do in the next fifty.

This necklace is my birthday present to me.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Ammonite, gold-filled, seed beads, vintage bugle beads, keishi pearls. Hand fabricated.

Yei Laughs

2008-05-03T17:52:00.009-04:00

The sun was just peeking over the hills as she opened the door; she smiled and acknowledged the serendipity of timing that had come to earmark this trip. She spent a moment in silent prayer, thankful for the pleasure the sunrise had given her. The air was crisp and cold, but the sun would warm the earth very quickly. She would not need a jacket.

She was suddenly, ravenously, hungry. Huevos Rancheros, beans, tortillas and cup after cup of hot coffee; she could eat a cowboy under the table this morning. There was a place just down the street, and she had a funny feeling that they would be unlocking the door just about now.

They were.

She grinned, delighted with life and looking forward to breakfast.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver, turquoise inlaid cherry burl cabochon by TazWood Finely Turned Creations, turquoise, onyx, coral, seed and bugle beads. Hand fabricated 16" necklace.

In the private collection of Linda Winsor

Early Spring

2008-04-30T16:08:00.007-04:00

It happened so suddenly; one day it was still winter, dull and grey, and the next morning everything was turning green. Leaves unfurled before the sun rose, and forsythia and daffodils trumpeted bright yellow notes under blue, blue skies.

Spring green is like no other; it has a freshness that no other season can duplicate. The world looks scrubbed clean and freshly painted. Later in the year, the garden will be thicker and very, very lush; but never again will it be such a wonderful shade of green.

Winter is finally over.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Vintage glass chatons, seed beads, 14k gold-filled accents. Hand fabricated princess length necklace.

In the private collection of Claudia Newcomer

Dawning of a New Hope

2008-04-21T09:55:00.011-04:00

Hope went to the window and looked out, not seeing the garden or the new leaves unfurling; lost in her own thoughts and memories. Her lessons had been hard and painfully learned; she understood the consequences, though they were very nearly more than she could bear.

"Just one more chance," she prayed, "please, Lord, just one more chance."

"Trust Me."

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

14 carat gold-filled, modern and vintage glass beads, wooden Purpleheart cabochon by Joan Jensen of TazWood Finely Turned Creations. Hand fabricated, bead weaving and chain maille princess-length necklace.

*Available for purchase through TazWood Creations*

A Ribbon of Faith

2008-04-19T07:39:00.005-04:00

Marti never gave up. She might look small and delicate; she might act demure and easily led, but she clung to her ideals as tightly as any vine that climbed towards the sun. Marti was a determined young woman. She would have been surprised to learn that the rest of the world mistook her agreeability for compliance; she would have laughed at the fact that her soft smiles and gentle ways allowed others to think that she followed their lead.

Marti went where she wanted to go. True, she nearly always went secretly; she didn't often share her thoughts or desires with others. She let them think what they would; she didn't really believe they would do otherwise, and saw no point in making waves.

Her quiet determination would see her through.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver, seed beads, Swarovski crystals, petal pearls, labradorite. Hand fabricated choker length necklace of bead weaving and chain maille.

Empress Emilie

2008-04-14T15:09:00.008-04:00

Emilie smiled her favorite smile: calm and sophisticated, with just a touch of warmth. It was the smile she reserved for people she liked; the smile she used when she actually felt like smiling. She hadn't always been so calculating; there had actually been a time when her face did what it wanted to do, and almost everyone called her Emmy.

But now she was Emilie through and through. The people who had known Emmy were long gone; she had almost forgotten how to live that way, and she didn't miss it. Emmy had felt too much; Emmy had no defenses against cruelty. It had hurt too much to be Emmy; she'd had to give her up. It was the right thing to do.

No sadness. Not ever again. Her face automatically arranged itself into Emilie's cheerful smile number seven.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Vintage glass cabochons, Swarovski crystals, seed beads, gold filled chain maille. Hand fabricated bracelet.

Not another girly-girl

2008-04-11T12:22:00.008-04:00

Her hair was black with a few licks of purple and blue, and her makeup was applied as carefully and precisely as the strokes of a renaissance painter. Her cosmetics comprised every shade of her favorite colors; she selected each one deliberately and applied it carefully; mixing and shading them one into the other, wielding her brush with the grace and speed of a true artist.

She selected her clothing with the same careful eye for detail; nothing, but nothing, was left to chance or unconsidered. Her palette was not simply black; she incorporated undertones of color with the unexpected sparkle of gold.

No cold, hard, contrast of silver for her; she loved the incongruity of warmth inside her darkness.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Vintage glass cabochons, Swarovski crystals, Czech crystals, seed beads. Hand fabricated choker length necklace.

In private collection

Russian Princess

2008-03-29T11:17:00.007-04:00

Anastasia stepped carefully over the litter of toys in her living room and sighed. She should be picking them up, but suddenly the clutter seemed overwhelming. She swept her hand across the mess on the sofa, taking a perverse pleasure in her ability to make plastic action figures take flight. Before sitting down, she checked for remaining weapons; a plastic spear was still a spear.

Good. Nothing had escaped her wrath. She was the all-powerful Mominator. She curled up, hugging her knees to her chest, not really wanting to let humor reclaim her and send her on a search and rescue mission for the living room floor. No Mominator. Not today. Instead, she simply closed her eyes and let her life recede.

Anastasia stepped carefully out of the carriage, holding her skirts just high enough to keep them from tripping her. She nodded to the footman as he returned her hand to her father's, and pulled her furs tighter around her to ward off the chill in the air. She was so glad to be home.

She laughed in spite of herself. Time to clean up this palace.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver, eudialite, and corundum necklace. Chain maille, hand fabricated.

Trophy Wives

2008-03-26T12:29:00.006-04:00

The diet hadn't been quite as successful as she'd hoped, but she was happily impressed with the new technologies in lingerie. She felt as smooth and sleek as the younger, and more expensive, wives in attendance. She looked around the beautifully decorated room, accepted a glass of something pink and trendy, noting that there certainly weren't very many of the old gals left. Was she the last? The comfortable cocker spaniels that should have been here had been replaced by a crop of whippets.

Nervous whippets. Whippets without histories; and, without futures. They would be indulged for awhile, and, when their husbands tired of them, they would be replaced by an even younger and thinner model.

Ah, at last. Another woman of her generation. She wasn't the last of her kind after all.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Choker made from seed beads, vintage glass cabochons, pearls, and jet beads. Hand fabricated.

Galapagos

2008-03-10T14:18:00.004-04:00

It was her secret, the place imagination carried her whenever life was too much to handle. She had no idea what it was really like; it was the idea of it that charmed her, and she'd never had any interest in finding out anything more about it than what she'd learned in the fourth grade.

The Galapagos islands: Isolated. Untouched. Protected from time and civilization.

She leaned back and let the dust of her day disappear into a sandy beach, where giant tortoises basked in the sun, and curious birds had no fear of her presence.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver, lampwork by Gail Kops of Beadles. Hand fabricated.

Darkest before the dawn

2008-03-08T14:18:00.003-05:00

The mountains were deep purple, and so far away that they looked as if they were cut out and pasted on the horizon. There were millions of stars in the sky; more than she'd ever seen before. The moon was low and as pale as a ghost. She watched the bats return to their roosts and knew that the long night was nearly at an end.

She'd watched the moon climb and descend; she'd felt the earth spinning below the stars. She'd stared through the darkness, unseeing, listening to the night dwellers circle around her. She was cold and alone, and had wondered if daylight would return. There were times when she could not imagine anything but night.

At last, the pale fingers of dawn extinguished the stars. She recognized the bright blue of the desert sky, and felt the tears ran down her face. They had been a long time coming.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver, charoite, turquoise. Hand fabricated.

Dreaming of spring

2008-02-25T10:14:00.005-05:00

The sky was that deep blue color that only comes once or twice a year, and the sunlight was glinting off the ice and snow in a way that made her feel anything was possible. She could see into the very heart of the earth where the irises slept, curled up in their corms, dreaming of spring.

Her breathing slowed, and she dreamed their dreams, folded tight in her own corm, held fast by her own roots. She was locked into winter, and had been for many years. She stirred and smiled a tiny smile, imagining her petals unfurled.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver, opal, and Sleeping Beauty turquoise ring. Hand fabricated.

Forget-me-not

2008-02-24T18:05:00.007-05:00

She'd planted them in every garden she'd ever had; the first had been transplants from her mother's garden which had spread like wildfire around the front porch. She loved seeing their cheerful little eyes winking at her as she went in and out; in her memory they were always in bloom under sunny California skies. She wondered if they were still there; wondered if someone else enjoyed them the way she had.

After moving across the country, she planted forget-me-nots in three new gardens; this time from seed. She had a strong sentimental attachment to the genus Myosotis, but not to the individual plants; there was no need for her to dig and transplant between gardens any more. In fact, for several years, the seeds came from packets distributed by a local realtor; every spring one arrived in her mailbox and she found a new place to sprinkle the teaspoon of seed that was inside it.

They always came up; but here, they only bloom in Spring.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver and turquoise bracelet. Hand fabricated.

Bumpy road

2008-02-18T10:48:00.003-05:00

No one said it would be easy. But did it really have to be so hard? Margot pulled a face at the retreating back of her mother. The woman could be so dense sometimes. How had she gone from knowing everything to knowing nothing? Maybe empathy evaporates in your 40s. Margot shrugged. Whatever. It was what it was. Deal with it.

Catherine closed the door very softly, and sat on the edge of her bed. Margot could be so cruel; was she doing it intentionally? How had she gone from hanging on her every word, to hating her every thought? Catherine put her fingers on the edges of her eyelids and pressed gently until she felt the tears stop welling.

It was what it was. Deal with it.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver and amethyst bracelet. Hand fabricated.

Robin's egg blues

2008-02-16T11:26:00.005-05:00

"They're at it again. Silly birds!" Robyn smiled affectionately at her almost-namesakes. They were building their nest in the roses that arched over the main path from her driveway to her door again this year. Back and forth they flew, carrying the bits and pieces that they would use to weave into a very sloppy looking nest.

Every year it was the same. The female would sit her eggs, hunching down as low as she could get as the family went to and fro beneath her. The first year, they walked the long way around, not wanting to disturb her, but as the years went by, they gradually gave up that courtesy. Now they looked right into the nest as they passed.

Every year, the babies hatched; sometimes the nest didn't hold and they fell to the ground. When Robyn or her sisters found them alive, they gently put them back, knowing that the mother bird would have no trouble accepting them. When the babies died, the girls used to hold funerals; Robyn couldn't quite remember when they'd stopped.

She watched them for a few minutes more; then went on with her day.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver and turquoise bracelet. Hand fabricated.

Small wonder

2008-02-11T18:41:00.003-05:00

"I just can't get anything right," Courtney muttered, kicking a rock that had suddenly appeared in her path. All that accomplished was scuffing the toe of her brand new, thigh high, boots. She examined it ruefully, hoping that a polishing would remove the scratches. Even the blinking earth was out to get her today.

She'd tried so hard to get him to notice her; she'd done everything short of grabbing his lapels and planting a kiss on his mouth. And don't think that hadn't occurred to her; she'd only abandoned that idea reluctantly. It might surprise some people, but Courtney had her limits. And snogging a total stranger, even a stranger as lovely as this one, was definitely off limits.

Pity.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver and tourmaline bracelet. Hand fabricated.

Flume

2008-02-10T10:57:00.000-05:00

She'd known this place all her life; it seemed impossible that this was the first time she'd actually been here. It had always been part of her, her secret joy and comfort, the sight and sound that swept away the fears and cobwebs in her mind.

She tipped her head back and looked all the way up to where the mist obscured the top of the cliff; the thin stream of water pouring over the side seemed to come from the sky itself. As it fell closer to earth, it seemed to widen; was it simply a trick of perspective or an actual repealing of the laws of gravity?

She didn't care. She was here.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver chain maille necklace. Hand fabricated.

Disappearing girl

2008-02-09T10:58:00.000-05:00

She kept her heart hidden. Not deliberately, no; in fact, it was something she was not even aware of doing. She thought everything about her was plainly visible; she was under the impression that everyone knew how she was feeling most, if not all, of the time. She realized that people often acted oddly in the face of her feelings; in truth, no one ever really responded the way she expected, but she felt that was a lack in her own expectations, not evidence of their ignorance.

She hid those feelings, too. She knew she was hiding them; she had no desire to hurt people by letting them know that they did not meet her expectations. It wasn't their fault. She carefully tied her disappointments into little knots and skillfully wove them into something more palatable; she looked for the good in people and circled her thoughts around it.

And always, always, she put a smile on her face.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver and tourmaline bracelet. Hand fabricated.

Animal Magnetism

2008-01-16T13:13:00.000-05:00

"This'll make their eyes pop," she whispered to her own reflection as she held up the clothes she was about to put on. She turned sideways to the mirror, patted her tummy, and satisfied herself that it was flat enough. She turned a bit more, tightening her muscles; yup, she still had it. Well, as long as she remembered to squeeze, she still had it. Okay, okay, she still had enough of it.

It had been a long time since she'd gone out on a real date; she wasn't sure she knew the rules anymore. She gave herself a mental shake; what did rules matter? She'd just make up her own and that was that. A little attitude would take her as far as she needed to go.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

14k gold-filled, sterling silver, lampwork by Donna Millard of Fyrebeadz. Hand fabricated.

Think Global

2008-01-15T20:08:00.000-05:00

"What was that saying?" she muttered, "Something global, something local?" She stared at her cat, as if expecting an answer, but got nothing. The cat yawned and blinked but didn't speak.

"Figures," she spat in the general direction of the cat as she got up from the computer and left the room, "I don't know why I ask you anything, anyway."

She caught sight of herself in her bedroom mirror and let out a whoop of laughter. Never mind the world; she'd better start with her own hair. It was standing straight up as a result of being raked by her fingers while she racked her brain for that trite saying that was still missing from her mind.

"Never mind," she told the cat, loftily, "I never use cliches, anyway."

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver. Hand fabricated chain and lentil beads.

Opening

2008-01-08T16:15:00.000-05:00

It was too early to wake him, so she slipped on her jeans and yesterday's T-shirt, and, shoes in hand, walked out the door, barefoot. She closed the door without making a sound; she'd had a lot of practice at leaving silently. The sun had not yet shown itself over the hills, but the sky was bright enough for her to see where she was going. When she reached the street, she eased her tennis shoes onto her feet.

She started out at a lope, wanting, no, needing to breathe deeply as the night evaporated into morning. Her lungs filled with cool air, and, after awhile, she slowed down. She'd run far enough. She stopped to catch her breath and stretched her hamstrings against a tree; she ran her fingers through her hair, smoothing it, and looked around.

Hanging from the tree, just inches from her nose, was a vine with some tightly wound dark purple flower buds on them. As she watched, they slowly unfurled.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver, uncut black diamond. Hand forged and hand fabricated.

January Thaw

2008-01-03T17:29:00.000-05:00

It had warmed up enough to melt off all but the largest drifts of snow; the creek had burst through yesterday's ice dams and was flowing freely again. The ground was almost muddy; it squelched lightly under her boots, but she did not sink into it the way she would in spring.

There was something so wonderful and unexpected about a January thaw; the leaves that had fallen a few months ago were still recognizable as leaves; a few remaining patches of snow lightened shady spots; and the sun shone like gold thorough the bare branches of the trees. She watched the play of light on the forest floor; she hummed along to the music of the creek.

Winter was not over; there would be more ice and snow, but today, oh, today it was spring in her heart.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

14k gold-filled, sterling silver, copper, tourmaline, freshwater pearl. Hand fabricated.

Frozen Flight

2008-01-01T13:42:00.000-05:00

It had been well below freezing for more than a week when she finally took out her old skates and cleaned the blades; she had not been on the ice since she was a girl, yet her mother had kept them. She'd seen them in the hall closet when she hung up her coat; every time she opened that door, they winked at her. It was not a trick of the light; those skates actually winked.

Someone had already swept the snow from the ice, creating a large oval arena; she noticed a few holes further out where fishermen had drilled; the ice was obviously thick enough for them. Nevertheless, hearing her father's voice in her head, she picked up the largest stone she could manage and dropped it onto the ice about a foot from the edge of the lake. If the edges held, the ice was still strong. No cracks.

She brushed some snow off a bench and began to lace up her skates. Her fingers moved quickly, strong and sure; they remembered. She stood up awkwardly, a little nervous, and stepped gingerly onto the ice. She stood there, waiting for something, and then took a tentative baby step. Before she could talk herself out of it, her knees bent and her legs moved in a deeply buried, nearly instinctual way; carrying her out across the lake.

Eyes bright, she flew.

© 2008 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver, lampwork by Robin of Something New 4 You. Hand fabricated.