Monday, November 16, 2009
Round Box with Poppy Lid in Sterling Silver
When I was a little girl I used to take things apart, nice things, mostly my own things. It seemed unbearable not knowing how the Geisha moved (and why were there multiple Geisha's) in my large, black painted, jewelry box my father brought back from his time in Asia. The box was awesome, it had top side drawers that flipped open (lined with soft red velvet) and some drawers that slid out under. The dissection didn't take place in a frantic fury like the opening of a candy bar (i spare no patience on such things), but over time I did pry that huge box open, from underneath- to discover its parts, the mirrors, the little mechanisms and~ I touched the Geisha. It was both thrilling and disappointing to find mirrors behind the slow dancing mechanical Geisha. I felt brain zapping thrills to see how these parts worked.
A similar fate fell upon a jewelry box brought back from Turkey to me as a gift, when we were stationed in (then) West Germany. Before too long, I'd upended the pretty octagonal shaped brown box (with gorgeous lighter wood inlay) and discovered the cylindrical metal piece that held the parts and went round and round to the theme song from the movie Dr. Zhivago. (When the lid opened a tiny plastic ballet dancer popped up with arm extended overhead and she moved in circles to the tune of Lara's Song from the move Dr Zhivago.)
I admit I get my thrills in odd ways, and the most fun that Turkish jewelry box brought was having the ability to play with the device to make the music go faster, then slower...and once I'd figured it out, it was not much of a joy to have around.
So many more pieces were taken apart, later half regretted...though mostly my curiosity was sated...and fueled...
This is why I love to make kinetic pieces. (Partly) I love to see something that would normally be still (let's say a ring) have the ability to be beautiful and move and move. This is where my love of Spinner Rings comes from.
When I figured out how to construct my first metal hinge I was over the moon. It doesn't mean diddly that I can go buy a ready-made hinge, I want to make it. My brain wants to enjoy the satisfaction of creating a piece that has caused my hands to construct.
These long-ago actions lead to my story behind making this piece, she's small but she if functional.
I can picture someone giving it to their beloved with a tiny note inside, a question maybe? A statement. Maybe~ a promise.
Soon I'll delve into these further and make them larger to fit rings and things. For now this is what I have to offer.