Harvey and I routinely go down to Florida to visit his 91-year-old dad. Thinly disguised as paperwork and bill paying, some serious father-son bonding goes on. I also think that old Sid is fond of my slash and burn method of closet cleaning, it gets his blood moving. After a few days of intensive work, we checked the computer for local nature trails and set off for the coast.

We found an earnest turtle rescue hospital and sanctuary at Juno Beach. I was teary-eyed looking that those loggerhead giants, who, with strength and perseverance were soldiering on with missing flippers and partial shells. Meanwhile someone was breaking into our rental car.

The growing list of things stolen still wakes me up in the middle of the night. An antique necklace from Thailand. My sketchbooks from the last year. My extra eyeglasses. A love letter. My favorite fountain pen. Silver bracelets. Handmade socks...and my computer.

My computer the object, is something I carry with me everywhere I travel so that I can get work done, download pictures, read emails and check the menus of local restaurants. My computer the treasure trove ark and archive, is something I carry as a turtle carries its house on its back. And I felt like one of those amputated turtles watching that black SUV squeal out of the parking lot with a four-year piece of my life.

Everyday we take risks, have near misses and tiptoe past disaster. Maybe it's that old lady who backed her car across four lanes of traffic. Or the backdoor that stood wide open while we went for a walk. The postponed doctor's appointment that didn't get rescheduled. When nothing happens I say “phew” and go on. But when something does happen...I find myself on a beautiful moonlit beach, retracing my steps, trying to do what mankind has been doing forever, rationalize randomness. I play the “if only” game, which is natural, but pointless.

When loss does come our way, we are dumbfounded, numb, violated. Because even though intellectually we completely understand the concept of randomness, emotionally we still don't believe it will happen to us without a reason. Do I take my 16 year-old cat to the vet before we leave him with a cat sitter, or do I buy a new hard drive? We have to make choices, and because randomness is well, chaotic, the choices we make are often irrelevant.

Many of us, myself included, are terrified of the idea of loss, perhaps more then the actual loss itself. I think we are afraid we do not have the constitution to handle permanent loss. When bad things happen to other people we automatically look for signs of their participation to act as a shield or barrier against the same thing happening to us. If we can find that magic talisman, we can place some of the blame on the victim, and be hopeful that will never happen to us.

I struggle as I write this. Feeling that the cosmos will find me trivial and self-absorbed if I mourn the theft of family pictures and such. Yet, to dismiss the violation and the permanent absence of those objects and memories is to deny a basic part of this artist-self, who collects and documents the small moments and details of life. On the other hand, I am a grown up, I know stuff is always, in the end, still just stuff. The crippling panic attack I had the next day wasn't about the things I kept remembering were in that luggage, but of that movie in my mind of Harvey running after that SUV.

Before we came home we went once more to the ocean, and I walked out into the waves far enough to feel them pound against me like a giant reassuring heartbeat. When I opened my eyes, there was Harvey down a ways, bending over to pick up a piece of coral for me to make into jewelry.

You can decide to prepare against all eventualities. Sunscreen, hat, long sleeve shirt, beach shoes, chair, pop-up umbrella, bottled water, UV sunglasses, bug spray, cell phone...and in the end you can entirely miss the moment. Sometimes you have to tie your skirt up, throw your sandals in the tall grass and run with careless abandon into the ocean.

September signals the beginning of a new cultural season, and art openings are more like family reunions. We went to huge gala opening at the Knoblauch Metal Studio and saw people I had only seen on my Facebook page for the past year. There was an unfortunately large number of people who, when introduced to Harvey, said “You know she's a crazy woman!”. Leaving him to wonder for the rest of the week what they meant exactly.

This marked the third year of our attendance at the Penfield Chili and Blues Festival, where we sample and score the efforts of local chili aficionados. It preceded the 5th annual Artist Row show, where the weather was perfect and the crowds were friendly, curious and in a buying mood. Harvey's Bernese Mountain Dog, Ivy, was our goodwill ambassador for the third year, it's shameless promotion, I know, but who can resist coming into the booth to pet a dog?

There are Saturday morning bike rides for $3.00 all-you-can-eat pancake breakfasts at the Baptist Church and a visit to the farmer's market for corn, peaches, pears, a cute little catnip toy made with a skull motif fabric that Barney is especially fond of, and maybe a new cactus.

Harvey and I canned a bushel of tomatoes with my Mom, something I haven't done in years and years. I had forgotten just how dreamy spaghetti sauce can be with tomatoes that are just a few days old and canned without all that other stuff not-tomato. (And why are we using tomatoes we canned just the day before instead of fresh ones you ask? Because there are always a few jars that don't seal.)

I've had lots of great news this last month. I received notice that I have reached the first level of accreditation in the international Metal Clay Master's Registry. For each of the five levels ten pieces are submitted that meet design and technical requirements incorporating Precious Metal Clay. To see my submitted portfolio of work, including a piece that was selected for the Master's Registry recruitment trip to England this past summer, go to www.mastersregistry.com .

Shortly after that good news, I was notified by the PMC Guild that I will be giving a technical demonstration at the Precious Metal Clay Conference at Purdue University in July. I'm looking forward to sharing some of the metalsmithing tips I have taught to my local PMC students. It's a real honor to be selected for this international conference. I gave a marketing lecture there in 2006 and it was a thrilling experience, I met some extraordinary people, formed wonderful friendships and professional connections. ( I also got a spectacular PMC charm bracelet at our swap party!)

If you interested in frequent updates about studio events, pictures of new work, and musings feel free to contact me on Facebook. Otherwise, get out there and take a fabulous fall walk!

Tying on my hiking boots,
Elizabeth.

For one thing, we find that trying to live in a mindful way takes time and commitment. We are discovering, like a lot of people these days, that being green is a lot more complicated the more you know. We started small, I convinced Harvey not to buy paper napkins anymore. We planted an herb garden. We turned part of our backyard into meadow. I bought bike bags. We had some earnest talks with the people at the Color Brighton Green booth at the Brighton Farmers Market, and discovered we were recycling the wrong items, and thereby probably contaminating our good efforts. We have been working on house projects that will save energy this winter, a noble undertaking when we would rather be at the pool or eating ice cream. And at the top of our list, we joined a CSA. (Community Supported Agriculture). We are part of a working farm. Every week we drive out to Mud Creek Farm in Victor and collect our bounty, and occasionally help with some weeding. In her first year, Farmer Erin has exceeded our wildest expectations. We come home with arms full of swiss chard, potatoes, zucchini, carrots, beets, zinnias and cilantro. OK, so I didn't really hit it off with the kohlrabi, but our already healthy cooking habits have escalated to new heights.

We had a big family summer. My mother turned 80 in July, which meant an Agte convergence in Brockport, NY. My brother Roy got the prize for furthest traveled. With his son Mac as co-pilot, and Weimaraner dog Diesel he drove from Seattle in a pickup truck. ( I just asked Harvey what kind it was so I could be a little more specific, and he said “A big one.”) We feasted, told tall tales, and untangled dog leashes all weekend. I commemorated Mom's landmark birthday with an interview at NPR's Story Corps while they were in Rochester.

We headed to Red Hook on the Hudson River for a Gross family get away in August, and celebrated four birthdays, and Harvey's retirement. We went to three farm markets, lamented over the lack of garage sales, found some beautiful back roads on our bikes, and enjoyed our pool, about the only thing that worked at our rental. We discovered the Storm King Art Center with Maya Lin's new “Wavefield” installation, and Frederick Church's home “Olana”. Oh yeah, and more great food.

Fall arrives with more to look forward to and keep us busy. I'll be in my seventh season as Artist-in-Residence at Fairport High School. It's a program I love being part of, and the six weeks I am there always just fly by.

Every fall the Precious Metal Clay Guild publishes a high quality catalog of outstanding recent work, and this year I will have three of my pieces in the PMC Annual .

I'll be exhibiting at the Fourth Annual Artist Row event at the Rochester Public Market. I've been there all four years, and it just keeps getting better. This is not your average craft show. Circle Sunday, September 20th on your calendar, from 10-4.

That's all for now, see you in October, I promise!,
Elizabeth.

Two weeks ago I attended an artist lecture by Maira Kalman at the Rochester Institute of Technology, that was spirited, affirming, pragmatic and funny. I was amused by her admission that she cleans to avoid working in her studio. That, in fact, she is thinking about giving up art for ironing. We all laughed knowingly. I completely get it, especially in a studio where we are still strangers. Cleaning, painting walls, oiling my work table, making coffee, arranging tools on shelves, hanging cat toys, removing lime build-up from said coffee maker, almost any form of distraction will do while I attempt to feel comfortable and familiar in a new studio. I remind myself of a dog circling and circling and circling before it can lay down for a nap.

Then spring comes. It's like an avalanche of creative passion and desire. No longer am I trying to nest, circling around, instead I feel like a ping-pong ball, bouncing from one idea or project to the other. I put off phone calls and emails and resist entertaining, because I just want to be in the studio. Harvey calls from work, urging me to go out for a walk, “It's a beautiful day”, and I say “sure”, as I cut up more solder. Just as the juices were really starting to flow, it was time to close up shop and go to Florida. After a winter of trying to acquaint myself to my new surroundings, I had to leave, and I was feeling a great deal of separation anxiety.

But that burst of creative spring energy came with us to Florida, like a little bird packed in my suitcase. I was waking up at four or five in the morning, quietly making coffee, and settling down to a few hours of making artist books. I was in heaven, warm enough to sit in my tee shirt and bare feet, listening to the morning birds wake, my hands sticky with glue. I bought a souvenir mood ring and it told me I was in a pretty darn good place.

Though spring hasn't put on her party dress just yet, she flirts. And even if we still need jackets, it's a joy to come out of the studio at the end of the day, and still be able to walk in daylight, (It's so much easier to snoop through people's garbage that way!) I'm getting busier in the studio everyday, with repairs and special orders, and work for galleries.

Oh, so here is the business report: I participated in the annual “Festival of Ideas” for the third time this March. In its 20th year it is a fabulous kids program. With something like 53 workshops that they can choose from, my enameling workshop is a best seller. You can go to the link on my artist page.

On May 9th from 12-3 pm. I'll be an one of the “Artists in Action” on the front porch of Artizanns Gallery in Naples New York. Bookmark this wonderful destination if you are out enjoying the spring colors and sampling wine in the Finger Lakes. They are open seven days a week.

My jewelry has been on display at the Memorial Art Gallery museum store in Rochester since before Christmas. Don't forget if you are a member you get a discount on your purchases. I just brought them some new work. Their Wearable Glass Jewelry exhibit is not to be missed.. Tell them I sent you!

I am currently taking applications for studio classes for June and July. I am artist-in-residence at Fairport High School during September, so I will not be taking new students again until later in the fall. I also will be conducting Precious Metal Clay workshops on June 28th and July 26th. I will be keeping enrollment down to four students per workshop, so sign up early.

Be green,
Elizabeth.

The biggest news for me this fall is that Harvey and I are taking up residence together. I am excited about this new chapter in our lives, we very much balance each other. Though the address will be different, I will still be in Fairport, and be able to continue to enjoy the benefits of this lovely little village. Combining households at this stage in our lives can be a creative gesture all on its own. We both love to cook, (although Harvey is a better cook then I am) so finding space for all our spices, cookbooks, cast iron pans, soup bowls and spatulas will take some imagination! Harvey has been hugely supportive and recognizes how challenging the life of an artist is. Early on, he started carrying my business cards in his wallet. Whenever he mets a woman wearing earrings, he hands her one of my cards.

I saw quite a few of you at the Artist Row asking if I was going to continue holding open studios on Monday evenings. The answer is yes, but just not right away. I think that I may still be in the throws of organizing the studio well into November, but feel free email me for a firm future date.

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and it seemed a fitting time to honor my friend Marylil McStravick with the copper earrings on my “What's New” page. The proceeds from these earrings will be donated to the Lipson Cancer Center at Rochester General Hospital.

Life is balance, good news, sad events, wonderful friends, unsettling times. With every passing year I become more aware of the importance of clearly seeing and appreciating the beauty of our very dailiness.

We journeyed back in time to celebrate the 400th anniversary of Quebec City in July. The fireworks display over Montmorency Falls literally took my breath away. This waterfall, just outside the city, is taller then Niagara Falls, and the grandstand placed us squarely in the middle of the action. Vieux Quebec is charming and aerobic with photo opportunities around every corner. I was impressed with the amount of public art the city has, and Harvey had I had lots of fun testing our recall of high school French. (Thank goodness for our computer back at the B&B!)

Then on to another kind of relaxation and creative expression, a trip to the ocean. If you make it all the way to Montauk on Long Island, the tee shirts simply say “The End” and it really is. The sea air, the thrilling blue of the ocean, the pounds and pounds of shells weighing down the back of the car, the buzz about the Montauk monster, well, of course, it was hard to leave.

But then it's home to emails and inquiries about workshops and new work, and that studio excitement kicks in. It feels good to be anxious and full of anticipation about getting to work again.

For my sixth year I will be at Fairport High School as an artist-in-residence through the middle of October. Of course many of my own students will be back in my studio, and I have a new list of PMC and enamel workshops on the workshops page.

I will be at the Artist Row Show at the Rochester Public Market Sunday September, 21st from 10-4 p.m. This is a really cool show, don't miss it.

I started a little studio salon at the beginning of summer and had a really great response. Now that fall is here I have time to bring it back to life. It will be on the second Monday of the month, September 8th, from 5-7 p.m. You can network, brainstorm, and work with others. Bring your work, a snack if you want to share, an art or craft supply to sell or trade, and five dollars to donate to charity. For a flier or more information, email or call me, because we would love to see you!

Now back to work!
Elizabeth.