Monday, January 31, 2011

Friday, January 28, 2011

Time of Need

I don't know what made me think of this, but I need to tell this story somewhere, and I thought, "What better place to share it than my "Chandler the Robot" blog...

The year is circa 2004. I was attending the University of Utah and living up in Salt Lake City. Somehow I had managed to become part of a circle of ruffians for friends. 

I'm driving to this party somewhere out in the middle of nowhere, and suddenly I hear this "Pow!" and a sound like air hissing out of a tea kettle. Well, there weren't any tea kettles on the freeway, so I wisely figured air might be coming out of my tires! I quickly jerked my head out of my drivers side window. As bugs and a giant icy sheet of winter air hit my face, I confirmed that my tire truly was...completely flat.
Great, no "fruit punch surprise" and chatting with random strangers about our own favorite ways to cook ramen (add eggs and cayenne pepper). 
I pulled over to the shoulder of the freeway. Actually, I remember, for some odd reason, there was a little dirt road that led off into the nothingness right where I pulled off. I bundled up in a thin sweater, barely able to fend off the chill of the Salt Lake air. I stepped out of my car, walked over to the problem, and checked it out.
Yup, my tires' rubber face completely blasted off the metal skull. Let's see. How did my dad tell me to do this? 

Back up 1 year. After high school, I stayed in my parents' house and bummed around for a bit. I was their first-born, so I believe they hoped I was going to stick around forever. After I had exhausted every means of entertainment I could possibly have devised within the four walls of my bedroom, I decided it was time for me to "fly away from the nest". I  stepped out into the kitchen and I told my father, "Dad, I'm going to go to college" in the abrubt, straight-to-the-point manner my dad and I have all of our conversations.  I walked into my room, packed a few belongings, stuck them in my trunk and told my family "farewell". (Strange, how I always seem to leave a setting this way...) My dad silently gave me a map of the state ( I had never been up to Salt Lake before), and then he showed me how to change a tire. 


Back to my story on the side of the freeway. I called my bum-for-a-friend. Of course he was plastered by then. He was my only option though. I figured it would take him about an hour to find his car at the party, an hour to start his car, and an hour to find his phone to call me to ask me, once again, where I was. It didn't even occur to me that he absolutely should not be driving. I was sort of naive back then.

At that point, I folded my arms, leaned on the side of my vehicle, and stared up into the night sky. 

And then...

A mini van pulled up. I remember it just appearing out of thin air.  A cheerful, well-dressed man, with an impeccably neat hair cut skipped out of the van. "Well, what happened here?" He smiled at me.( I remember him winking at me at that point, but I believe I might have fabricated that detail?)I was speechless. He turned back to his car and hollered "come on kids!" A lovely looking lady and 5 spritely children, all resembling their father in attitude and "clean" appearance, joined their father at the side of my car. One of them held a giant allen wrench (or whatever the heck you call those things that screw off the tire pegs. Nick! I need your mechanical technical terms for my blog!) Other children were holding other tools needed to help a "poor girl in need on the side of the road".
Now this next part is the part that seems unreal, but I kid you not. They all lined up and took turns screwing all the screws off to take off my blown out tire and put the new tire back on, and THEY WERE SINGING WHILE THEY WERE DOING IT!
     When they were done they all smiled at me, giggled, hopped back into their car, and drove away (probably back to Candyland). 

I didn't say a single word the entire time.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Valentine's Day Custom Orders

If you'd like me to make something special for that "someone special", let me know.  I will be taking custom orders from today up until the 3rd, so I can have time to ship them out to you and because Dia and I are flying out to Portland to play our first show of the year the next day!

E-mail to before placing your order. After we have an e-mail convo about whether or not I can make the design, then place your order selecting "Valentine's Day". All orders are $40.00

And please, if you don't have a date on Valentine's day, don't mope. Been there done that! I suggest, candles, and hot bath, and an old movie. You'll be fine:)

Honestly, Meg

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Atlas Shrugged

I thought I would be the only one who would appreciate an "Atlas Shrugged" inspired piece of jewelry. Boy, was I wrong... The response has been fantastic! I am tickled silly that so many of you are admirers of Miss Rand's masterpiece. 

I created two more pieces to add to my (soon to be yours) "Atlas Shrugged" collection. They are both one-of-a kind, meaning...I only made one each. I will post both of the pieces this weekend. 

The first piece is called "Hank's Gift" designed in honor of my favorite character, of course, Dagny Taggart. One of my favorite scenes in the entire book is the scene where Hank buys that gorgeous necklace for Dagny, clasps it around her neck, and tells her to wear it for him because it gives him pleasure. I love the concept of enjoying luxuries because one has worked hard for them and one deserves it, and despise the concept of empty illusions of pleasure like the party Dagny's mother threw for her to introduce her to society, in which people aimlessly loiter celebrating nothing and enjoying no one. 

Speaking of those kinds of people, the second piece is dedicated to LIllian Reardon. I know, I know, why create a piece for the antogonist of the story? Well, I'll tell you why. Because she is beautiful, regardless. Empty, lonely, hateful, and shockingly beautiful, and so the second piece is called "Lilly"

"I swear by my life and my love for it, that I will never live for the sake of another man, nor ask another man to live for mine."

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Goodbye Winter

Icicles crashing,
toes warming,
stay inside with me tonight.

Thursday, January 20, 2011

The Affair

When I first dove into jewelry, a friend of mine told me he was sad I was letting go of music to do jewelry and he wished I would stick with music. His sentiment did make me very thoughtful for awhile. After all, when one takes up something new, less time is available for that something old. I have to confess, when I first started tearing copper sheet apart and winding wires until my fingers were just about as sore as when I first picked up a guitar, I didn't play my instrument for a solid week. After that though, we did some touring and practicing, and I once again focused on the band.

last night a funny thing happened. Dia and I were having an e-mail conversation about the covers we would be playing at our Portland college show coming up. (I want to play "Sister Golden Hair" by America and "My Guitar Gently Weeps" by the Beatles.) After a week of my guitar collecting dust, I took it out of its case, and had a bit of an episode remembering a few parts here and there. Why aren't you working fingers? What is the deal? Isn't my musical prowess supposed to be perfection regardless of how often I grease the wheels?

 I realized I had been having an affair with my new love: jewelry and had left my old love: music a little behind, only to tip toe back into bed with it and tap on its' shoulder ever so affectionately. "Please baby" I ought to have whispered to music, "You know how much you mean to me. I'm telling the truth now. Take me back."

 "We are the architects of our own lives." I'm not sure where I picked that phrase up, but it's true. 

Only each of us unto ourselves can discern what will make us the most happy. Music makes me so happy, so complete. Jewelry makes me dance in delight. They are both art to me, emotional, creative, and expressive. And now that I have been fatefully introduced to both, I can't leave one behind. This isn't an affair. Music isn't taking a back seat, there's just a new passenger. 
You know you. Go be happy. Wake up early and make time for all the things and people that make you happy. Don't neglect anyone or anything. Embrace it all. That's Chandler's silly advice anyway...

P.S. Everyone check out Rachel Ross' art. She drew that pic of "Steampunk me" to the left! Click on the pic to see more of her stuff!!!

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Oooh Wee!

Finally! I've been working on these designs for a week straight. I'm happy to announce the completion and availability of my first four polymer clay pieces. It's about time!

 "Take Me Away" was inspired by my new favorite animated film "Up", one of the only films which never fails to bring tears to my eyes. Have you seen that intro? Geeze!

I can't really explain how "Run Away" came about. I guess what happened was, I started to make roses in a vase, decided that was clearly unoriginal and came up with roses in a boot. Yes, yes. I like that much better. 

"Rain and Pour" remind me of a circus.

And then there is my favorite piece, "Our Home is Gone". I don't really need to explain that one, do I?



Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Battles and Wars

We have these intercoms installed in our house, kind of like the ones in grade school which allowed the principal to scream through the classroom speakers at mischievous little children. There is a system installed in every room. Sometimes I wait until it's late at night, when the family is just about to drift into sleep. Then I crawl out of my bed, press the "talk" button and grumble in a booming voice, "This is God speaking..." 
     Jade, my younger sister, pressed the "talk" button just yesterday. After an obnoxious "beep" her voice exclaimed, "Noooo!" I ran downstairs. She wailed, "A 76, a 76! I'm never going to pass the exam with a 76!" This was her second failed attempt at her online math exam. She must receive an 80 percent within four tries so that she will "never have to take another math course again in her college career". "Jade" I coo in my worldly big sister voice, "Well, you lost a battle, but you can still win the war." 
     "Nooo!" This time it's me screaming through the intercom (As you may have figured out, we are very aware of each others' daily failures and triumphs in this house) I had just chopped off My "Stupendous Chandler's" head with my wax carving knife. I had spent the entire afternoon and evening scraping away tiny particles of wax dust off of this block of wax, and then suddenly...wack! I carried Stupendous Chandler's mangled tiny body down the stairs in my trembling fingers.  A funeral procession somberly trailed behind me. After explaining the situation to my sympathetic family, Jade didn't hesitate a moment to comment, " Well, you lost a battle, but you..." "Jade!" I interrupted.
I slowly retreated back up the stairs to my bedroom/workspace, accepting my defeat. I fell onto my soft polka dotted bed spread in a slump, put headphones into my ears and attempted to bring up my spirits by listening to my favorite radio talk show host. (I won't mention her here because it is embarrassing.)
During her introduction, she mentioned a little jewelry supply shop she had visited during a vacation to the east coast. She spoke of this relatively new artist' medium called Polymer Clay.
Hmmmmm. Polymer clay. Polymer clay. My teacher in Austin mentioned this substance to me. I decided to do some research. After only a few minutes of google inquiry, I began to develop a cold sweat. This is what I have been looking for for years! This is the answer! If you just keep your eyes and ears open all the time, the answer will come to you. 
For hours and late into the night, I poured into articles, blogs, pictures, wikipedia, anything I could get my hands on explaining this glorious clay and its' capabilities. Just think. No more hours spent on brittle wax models for my designs, complete freedom of form, vibrancy of color, and on and on...
I explained it to my sister like this: I felt like my whole adventure into jewelry felt like me sitting in this giant sling shot. The huge piece of rubber pressed against my back. With every new attempt, each new demonstration and method explained to me, my frustration and improvement felt like another stretch back in my sling shot, until I'm stretched further and further, and the rubber feels like it's just about to snap. Polymer clay is my explosive release into the future!  There's no turning back:)

P.S. I've been constantly doing the dishes for my mothers' home. I just feel like, since I'm 25 and have moved back in, I ought to "pay" my way somehow. O.K. I did kind of get obsessed about the dishes though. It's kind of like when I was in college, I developed this habit of cleaning off my car windshield everyday, about three or four times a day. One day, this guy that I'd seen wandering around my dorm straight up asked me. "You're out here ever day doing this aren't you?" Then, I realized the extent of my insanity. OCD? No. I just like things CLEAN. My mom told me this morning matter-of-factly, "I'd like to reward you for doing the dishes all the time. I scheduled a massage for you at the gym." "But..." I began to stammer. I wanted to help her without anything in return. Oh well, I just got back from the massage. It felt glorious. The tiny girl who gave me the massage, was surprisingly firm and her perfume smelled nice. So the moral to this blog is: Good things come to people who wash dishes!