Mermaid's song

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

"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

"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

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

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.