Empress Emilie

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.

Galapagos

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

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.

Forget-me-not

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

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

"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

"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.

Disappearing girl

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

"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

"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.

January Thaw

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.

Catch me if you can

She flung out her arms and twirled around; enjoying the brief sensation of flight that she always found in dizziness. She heard her daughter giggle as she copied her; did she feel the same sudden loss of contact with the earth? She darted off, twisting and turning, running crazily, but never going very far.

Her tiny daughter followed her every step; arms outstretched, laughter contagious.

© 2007 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver, amethyst. Hand forged and hand fabricated.

Londinium

She loved to lose herself in museums, and the Museum of London was ideal for that purpose. More than any other she'd found, it let her disappear into another time in this very place. Between groups of schoolchildren, she imagined peeling back the layers of asphalt, dirt, stone and mortar that was London today and walking on the mosaic floors that were hidden from view, virtually everywhere in this city.

But the more things change, the more they remain the same; romantic fancies aside, she knew that this very spot, where bits of Hadrian's wall still stood, was every bit the business center then that it was today. She grinned ruefully; no doubt it would be just as hard to find a late supper downtown, regardless of the time she found herself in.

© 2007 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver, lampwork by Donna Millard of Fyrebeadz. Hand fabricated.

Love me, love me knot

She wasn't ordinary. She had a style all her own, and had lived a life that was an inspiration to the girls and women who had known her. Her humor and her creativity were her legacy; her granddaughter thanked her silently as she worked, grateful for the gift of letting the work lead her to its own conclusion, thankful for permission to happily make changes midstream and follow the flow of the design as she worked.

Her granddaughter hadn't been born with that ability; oh, no, quite the contrary. As a young girl, she'd wanted to make things do what she wanted them to do, and she'd been quite humorless about it when they didn't cooperate. It hadn't been easy for her to accept her grandmother's easy attitude toward changing things; she'd struggled and tried to force fabric and thread to bend to her will. She could not laugh about failure at all.

It was only in her later years that she appreciated her gift.

© 2007 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver, lampwork by Donna Millard, freshwater pearls, czech glass. Hand fabricated. In the private collection of Ida Newcomer.

Angels Unaware

She hated the old pump; hated the way it froze up; hated going outside to fetch water every time she needed some. She'd heard of people rich enough to have water piped right into the house; she'd heard that all they had to do was turn a knob and watch that water pour out, never stopping until the knob was turned back the other way. She wasn't sure she believed it, but oh, she wanted to. Just once in her life, she'd like to turn a knob and have water pour out; she wouldn't turn it back the other way, oh, no, she'd let that water pour in until it filled the house. What an idea!

She laughed at her own fancy as she lifted the buckets and headed back toward the house; she saw the men, working hard in the fields behind the house, and she quickened her step. The dishes would wait, and she could always pump more water.

© 2007 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

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

Pilgrim's Progression

Christianne automatically leaned to the left as her overloaded handbag began to slip off her right shoulder; she caught it in the crook of her arm with a jerk that would have made her lurch into the woman in front of her if she hadn't already counter-balanced herself. She took advantage of the moment to rub her shoulder ruefully; the bag had worn such a groove, it was amazing that it ever slipped off. Her husband always wondered if she had bricks in there; she wasn't sure why it was so heavy, but she was quite certain that there wasn't anything in there that she could live without.

When it was her turn, she rummaged in her bag, found her wallet and paid for her purchases. She added the new bags to the ones she was already carrying; re-shouldered her handbag, and went on her way.

© 2007 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver, lampwork by Donna Millard of Fyrebeadz. Hand fabricated.

Ripples

She sat on the edge of the pond and tossed nuggets of koi food into it; she watched the crisscrossing patterns of the ripples as she sent each lump into a different place. The fish were new, they were hiding from her largesse; they didn't understand that these small missiles that disrupted the surface of their lives were actually sustenance that would nurture them and help them grow.

She leaned back on the bench and felt the morning sun on her face; she closed her eyes briefly and enjoyed the moment. She wished she could just explain things to them, somehow show them her purpose; but they would have to figure it out themselves. She knew that, in time, there would be those who welcomed her with glad hearts; those who followed the others, wishing that they knew what the first seemed to know; and those who stayed forever hidden, fearful of her very existance.

Faith was always a choice.

© 2007 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Gold-filled and tourmaline bracelet. Hand fabricated.

Slings and Arrows

"Time to do battle," she thought grimly, and dressed accordingly. Nothing weak or uncomfortable would do; no high heels, nothing that would need adjusting or have to be accounted for; thongs and dangly earrings were out, out, out today. She would be completely, totally, prepared.

No matter what.

She synchronized her watch with the clock on the microwave; it wouldn't do to be late. Being caught unaware gave her opponents too much advantage; she calculated that she had ten or twelve minutes to spare. Her coffee cup was still in the microwave from this morning when she'd punched "reheat" and forgotten about it; she punched it again and vowed to remember this time.

Dang it. The bus was early today. Her teenagers were home.

© 2007 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Copper and lampwork bracelet. Hand fabricated with a heat patina.

Summer Skies

The sky is heavy today; winter is coming, and although it is not cold enough, the clouds look like they hold snow. Summer is a pleasant memory; I have lost the oppressiveness of heat and humidity and only remember the deep turquoise of the summer sky as thunderclouds build for an afternoon storm. The summer sky of my memory isn't this sky, uniformly heavy and pale grey; it is a dramatic and noisy sky, demanding and receiving attention as we gather up our towels, find the lost sand toys, and scurry back home before the storm breaks.

That summer sky is from such a long time ago; my children were small, then, and summer stretched out for months and months ahead and behind us. We went to the beach every day under that summer sky, and we knew its pattern as well as well as we knew our own swim-suited bodies. We lived by its rhythm.

Today's sky asks for nothing.

© 2007 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Bracelet; sterling silver, amazonite, lampwork by Gail Kops of Beadles. Hand fabricated.

Eclipse

I'd gotten to the point where the reflections in the water seemed more real to me than what was being reflected. It was, after all, just a simple paradigm shift; a trick of perception; a game I played and, depending on how you considered the outcome, lost or won.

Such a strange mirror; the water deepened the color of the sky, and, where it slid over boulders it obscured things with frothy bubbles that shimmered and made the world look even more abstract than usual. I realized suddenly that I preferred the reflection to reality; its fluid dance swiftly eclipsed the staid, solid world and replaced darkness with its own light.

© 2007 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver, amazonite, lampwork by Melissa Vess of Inner Realm Creations. Hand fabricated.