Danny Kaye

Whenever I start making hats, I think of Danny Kaye.


I posted my most recent hat-making endeavors at my shop at Etsy.
Despite the fact that both of them sort of took on their own notions of what they wanted to be and, in so doing, had no respect for my original concepts, I am happy with them.


The Apothecary hat is something I happily blame on my friend, Chaz Kemp. He pointed out that while groovy Steampunk stuff abounds for the ladies, the menfolk really don't have a lot to choose from.

So I made a hat. With men in mind, but it does look smart on a woman, too (me, in particular.)












I also added a pirate hat to the list. Normally, I don't dabble in such things, but a friend of mine over at Cabochon and Persnickity inspired me. And by "inspired" I mean "arrived in a gorgeous hat that broke my brain open and filled it with ideas." Cabochon is like that. She gives me ideas. I like her.
Anyway, here's the hat.








I'm probably entirely too proud of the albino peacock feathers I acquired for this project, but I had never seen them before. I think they're marvelously elegant and add a special kind of grace to the overall design.

Or maybe I'm just full of it.
Either way, these are new. I do hope you like them.
I also encourage you to visit Chaz and see his lovely Art Nouveau, and Cabochon and Persnickity (They have a dragon skull!)

The Fun is in the Learning ~or~ Etching Copper

"You don't master something by doing a thousand different things one time, you master it by doing one thing a thousand times."
I probably mis-quoted her severely, but that's what my mentor and friend Lexi Erickson told me one day.
I still can't claim mastery over any one thing (except maybe computer Mahjong.)
I was all prepared in Mrs. Erickson's studio; ready to tackle my apprenticely tasks with the timid eagerness of a novice performing in front of a master.
That day, she took me away from the jewelers' bench and to a different part of her studio (some people call it a "kitchen counter") and set before me a dish of ferric chloride, a few rubber stamps, some transfer paper with doodles on it, and a bunch of strips of 18-ish gauge copper.
"Today we're doing some acid etching." She announced.
Not wanting to sound completely ignorant, I think I responded with something like "Oh."

She explained the process to me and walked me through it a couple of times. I was a bit apprehensive at first, but it very rapidly became one of my favorite art forms. Especially after the etching part was done and the finishing process started.
I'd file the piece so it was comfortable to wear, then gently put a patina on it, darkening the copper and giving it a character of its very own. Depending on my mood and what I felt from the piece, I'd clean some of the patina off, or most of it, leaving the copper with a personality I agreed with.

Pictured is one of my first in a series of etched cogs. I absolutely adore how it turned out and plan to keep making more - some similar, some wholly different.

This weekend, I'll be planning a small trip to Galaxy Fest, and at the Pandora Celtica band table, a couple of these fun little trinkets will be available for purchase. (You should listen to their music as well, it's delightful! They'll have CDs and t-shirts and art prints and all manner of fun things available.)
After the show, I'll finish putting my little copper bits up in my new Etsy shop: Ravensong Industries.
I do look forward to seeing you there!

Tea for Two

I like old things.
I grew up in a little log cabin high in the Rocky Mountains. The cabin was somewhere around 100 years old ; tiny, with a loft and an added-on front porch.  In back, there was a shed with a big sliding door that was almost off its rusty rails. It used to be the blacksmith's shop when the small collection of structures was a mining town. 
Most of its buildings now inhabit the South Park History Museum - still one of my favorite places to visit.

We lived close to the London Mine, up Mosquito Gulch in South Park City. We had horses, ducks, and chickens. My neighbors had a goose named Wilma. She was a gigantic, cruel, grey thing and to this day I blame her for my goose paranoia.

I grew up surrounded by antiques and  gadgets. My father is a brilliant man and clever mechanic who has an affinity for old tools, cars, and widgets. My mother,  among many other wonderful things, is a writer and artist.
I went to school in a tiny town called Fairplay.  My class was the first to break 50 students.
In Fairplay - not in New York or Paris or any other marvelous, renowned city- I met some of the most talented people in the world. 

One of these people was Lexi Erickson, who was, at the time, one of several teachers in my high school that had many roles. She taught Art, History, Archaeology, and from time to time, Music.  She rose above and beyond the role of Teacher, becoming friend, confidant ,and sometimes co-conspirator. She had about a million books, and I wanted to read them all.

Another was Vallerie Holland Hughes; a bright and fantastic beacon of loveliness, and one of many creative minds who worked with The Muppets.  A genius with all things aesthetic and an amazing costume designer. Not long after she moved to our little mountain burgh, I came to her shop and timidly begged to be her apprentice. To my eternal fortune, she said yes.

Several years and many stories later, Mrs. Erickson is a remarkable jewelry designer of international acclaim and I am honored to be her helper, apprentice, friend, and pupil. I'm not even half way through her collection of books yet.
Vallerie and her lovely family are far from Colorado, but she still inspires both my sewing machine and my hot glue gun. 
I  live, work, and play in Denver, Colorado.  I have several incredibly talented friends and acquaintances that I can't wait to introduce you to.
The other, incredible people I work with will be individually featured in upcoming blog posts; they're wonderful people and I want to do them the honor of giving them whole articles all to themselves.


And so, humbly, I submit for your enchantment and enjoyment, Ravensong Industries; an eclectic collection of charm, grace, and mischief.
I hope you love it here, and do please stop by often.