Sunday, October 31, 2010

Edo-period Japanese medical illustrations

showing the proper way of binding wounds and making tourniquets - 1813

trepanning instruments - 1790

more trepanning (like a wine corkscrew for your skull!) - 1790

and yet more trepanning - 1790

brain dissection - 1774

breast cancer treatment - 1809

Friday, October 29, 2010

At the bench.

For the past two days, I've been so immersed in the process of setting up my etsy, this blog and my website ( that I haven't had a chance to do any work in the studio.

However, after this little post, I'm off to make some new earrings that I dreamed about last night. Strange how inspiration tends to strike when you are just nodding off to sleep or when you are still half in a dream state.

Just wanted to show you all some studio shots from the past month and give a little glimpse into my studio space! I love my studio space. It's the second bedroom of my apartment, so I can just wake up, throw on some comfy clothes (like the penguin sweater I'm wearing now) and go tinker around. I get soft green walls, hardwood floors and, if it's a clear day, a magnificent view of Mt. Rainier from the window above my soldering table.

part of my inspiration wall
after a quick dusting/organizing

coney pendant in progress

lover's eye pendant in progress

Thursday, October 28, 2010


Living in Japan this past year clarified for me the kind of life that I want to live. I want to be a maker, to be someone who commits to a daily practice of creating something interesting, beautiful and/or useful. So, since returning to Seattle in late August, I have been steadily working on a collection of pretty, easy to wear, affordable pieces that are distillations and reinterpretations of my love for handmade objects coming from a variety of historical craft traditions.

I'm almost ready to show you the first batch of my efforts. For now, please enjoy these screencaps from the 1968 film "Color of Pomegranates" by Sergei Parajanov.  It's a visual feast of a movie evoking the life of 18th century Armenian poet Sayat Nova.  Every frame is like a painting, so it was hard to narrow them down!