Last fall my uncle lost his partner of fifty-seven years. In 1970, my uncle and his partner purchased a small cottage in Kennebunkport, Maine. The idea at the time was Kennebunkport was just far enough that the family would not come to visit. (The family proved otherwise.) For fifty years Uncle John and his partner “summered” at the cottage. When his partner died, the cottage went from a getaway to a place of sadness and memories gone by.
Uncle John asked if we would consider coming to Maine to help him liquidate 50 years of collecting antiques, his household, the works, the place of our small family wedding, (as the cottage sold in 24 hours), I wanted a last chance to be there. Little did I know what we were getting into. “Sure,” I answered. “We would love to spend a summer in Maine with you.”
My uncle is a creature of habit. Wake, feed the dog, walk the dog, read the paper, go the beach and then at precisely 5PM, happy hour. Two drinks and two drinks only. During the summer, gin and tonic with the rare martini making an appearance and margaritas on the really hot nights
Our goal was simple. Sell, then use the proceeds to enjoy the best of coastal Maine eateries. I thought our plan was easy and something that would leave ample time for exploration. I was wrong because I quickly realized what I had volunteered for was beyond yard sales, there WAS a lot of stuff, but it was a voyage traveling the history of our family.
There was so much I didn’t know. The details of my uncle and his relationship with family, friends and his career, which saw him venture far from home only to return where he would spend his entire adult life. I learned of feuds and favorite foods. I learned of my childhood and the stresses and successes of my parents.
I also learned that families are complex. The hidden, the forbidden and the unknown chapters can get lost unless we meet, talk, spend extended time with one another and work through the pointy parts of life.
I know now that my gentle, kind uncle loves Game of Thrones. I know he is a social man who is our family historian. I know his life had many challenges and family was his anchor point to find his bearings when things got tough. I know he and his partner would walk the neighbor’s children to the school bus on the first day of school and I know his Boston accent is too strong for Siri to understand. The best part was teaching him how to use his new iPhone and help me research his treasures for the multitude of estate sales, kind of like a Seinfeld episode.
I know that our time together this summer was better than anything I could have asked for, I was grateful for the opportunity to learn so much about our history while he was among us, not as he likes to say; “when his eyes are closed” A reminder to ask those questions, to keep the stories alive, which I continue to do with my Adorn Reborn jewelry.
Back In Santa Fe, it’s truly fall and I begin the next chapter of my work life, Holiday Markets. Here is my upcoming schedule if you find yourself in the City Different
May you have a wonderful and healthy holiday season wherever you are on this planet.
Nov 19 Saturday 12:00-4:00 ArtWalk Santa Fe Paseo Pottery 1273 Calle de Comercio, Santa Fe
Nov 25, 26, 27 Friday 11:00-5:00 Saturday+Sunday 10:00-5:00 NM Artisan MarketHotel Albuquerque 800 Rio Grande NW Old Town
Dec 3 Saturday 9:00-3:00 Los Alamos Winter Art Fair Los Alamos Middle School 1300 Diamond Drive Los Alamos, NM 87544
Dec 10 Saturday 9:30-3:30 MIMS Art Show and Crafts Fair 1604 Agua Fria Rd Santa Fe
Dec 17 Saturday 10:30-4:30 Cerrillos Station Winter Holiday Market Cerrillos, NM
Photos by @BrandonRemler
]]>
What is the most difficult day of the year for you? Christmas? Thanksgiving? Anniversary? Birthday? For me, it’s Mother’s Day. Yes, everyone writes to me “You need to post about your jewelry for Mother’s Day.” “It is the last time when people buy jewelry for their mother until the holidays.” Okay, okay, okay.
I have been in the studio creating new pieces while playing all the music my mother loved, channeling her, all month, each and every day. I am participating in several upcoming, juried art fairs, so my production is ramping up. Consequently, my mind and ears are filled with memories of mom. I hear her voice urging me to “make it beautiful, make it fun, make it interesting.” With her direction I move forward with my creations, delighted by the process.
When I pause I create dialogue with her, private conversations when it feels like she is here with me. “Arline,” I say. “You would be proud, and I wish you were here to see.” “I have my tribe that loves and supports my efforts, and that is the next best thing to you being here.”
Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms in my life, especially my sister, who is the greatest mom in the world.
]]>
What’s in a name.....Kawadler? How do you say it? How do you spell it? Yes, I’ve been hearing these questions my entire life. Sadly, I’ve also been hearing these same questions with my business name and this is what brings us here today. It felt so right, Aymala Studio, but I should have learned my lesson. I tried to find a name that had meaning and connection, but I never truly took into account the phonetic hurdle I was asking people to climb.
So, after two years of trying to force it, I knew I needed to make a change. After sharing my frustration with a very smart friend, she leaned over and said, “Let’s work on a rebrand.” And later that day “Adorn•Reborn” was born.
I should have shared this in my last post about our van travels, so apologies to those who were confused by my last email. Just know, it’s still me and I’m still “giving new life to old treasures” only this time under a new, "easy to spell and say" business name.
I want to thank all of you, not just for bearing with me during this crazy chapter, but also for being a part of my life. Oftentimes, as I sit in the studio creating; I am thinking of you. I’m thinking of our relationships, conversations, and histories together. These thoughts provide flickers of truth, direction and, inspiration; it makes me feel like we are in this world together, walking toward an unknown yet wonderful future.
And if you too have a tricky last name, well, just know I feel your pain. Enjoy the holidays and stay well from Adorn Reborn….;)
]]>It has been ages since I’ve written anything beyond thank-you-notes and my last newsletter was in the spring, but the past summer and fall have been quite an adventure that I would love to share with you.
When I learned my uncle might be selling his cottage in Maine, where Daniel and I got married, I knew we needed to hop in the van and head east, and on July 11th, we did just that. Avoiding the interstate and sticking to the smallest roads possible, we powered our way across mid-America, before finally landing along the rocky coast of Maine. The small roads provided us the opportunity to go slow, explore, and see the nooks and crannies of our great nation. Taking the back roads also allowed me to peruse antique malls, swap meets, flea markets, estate sales, and a range of other locales where I discovered plenty of jewelry flavored treasures.
We also spent time with friends, walking lavender farms in Pennsylvania, paddling our origami canoe, fireworks on the Long Island sound, visiting Niagara Falls and so much more. We befriended strangers, spent time with family and observed, as best we could, this place called America. We endlessly cleaned bugs off the windshield, sang karaoke to bad 70s ballads, and lots of word games. Once in Maine, we went after the greatest hits, lobster, fried clams, steamas, and blueberry pie, but not necessarily in that order, and I admit, we had all of these items more than once.
They say that art takes space. Space away from the confines of production and consumption and a long road trip provides just that. Sure, the van is small and you might want to think twice about who you travel with and Danno has proven his worth, but once those decisions are made you simply aim and go. The world opens up when you allow it to and regardless of current affairs, it's not only not ending; it’s spinning at high speed, sprinkling delights and adventures in all directions. Carpe Diem
]]>
There is no such thing as a free lunch except when we are discussing these baby birds. This nest sits outside our bedroom window. Our pair of Woodhouse's scrub-jays arrived March 19, 2020 to start their new family just as the world shut down.
We watched each day as they built the the most intricate woven nest structure you have ever seen then proceeded to lay their speckled eggs. After much love from mom, these eggs slowly hatched revealing two tiny, fragile creatures with faces only a mother could love. Before long, mom took the babies to our front patio where she taught them to fly and ushered them into the greater world. On March 19th, 2021 our pair of jays returned on the exact same day, to the exact same spot, only to do it all over again.
On Mother's day Week, let's pause and remember the most important person who gave us life; our moms. The ones here on Earth and the ones in heaven. Thank you for everything. We will never forget you.
]]>
Much has been said about change and the challenges and choices that come with this reality. We also hear “Change is good,” but mostly by those unaffected by it. Perhaps transition is a better idea to focus on. Here in New Mexico we see fall fade to winter, but not before putting up a fight. Wild swings in temperature, days of snow followed by days of sun as we shed, then add layer after layer. Treetops and ridgelines dipped in color, then suddenly bare as winter makes a play for dominance. We know the transition will soon be over as the days grow short and the nights come early.
I wish I could say we are transitioning out of COVID, but based on the numbers, we are still a long way from resolution. Because of this we continue to learn the rules of our new normal. Humans adapt, we always have, and this is no different. Challenges abound for big and small. Government relief packages, transit battles and even the major brands have to reshape success and even survival. This applies to us small business owners as well. Little did I know when starting Aymala Studio what was waiting around the bend.
It would be easy to pack up and shut down, waiting for a better day, but this isn’t me and it’s not us. If a transition is required, then that is what we will do, and in fact, that is what we have always done. For me personally, this meant thinking about what is most needed and most practical. Our new friend, the face masks; fabrics and straps, simple, and yet artists worldwide have turned this new accessory into artwork. Blazes of color, designs, styles, including the flag of each and every land. But I saw a glaring gap in our new relationship. Where do we put our new friend when not in use or between uses?
I noticed masks dangling from ears, stuffed in pockets, hanging from stick shifts and tied to backpacks. I also saw many littering the narrow streets of Santa Fe, lost in the shuffle to cover then uncover. So, I made yet another small transition from creating straight adornment pieces to creating jewelry that serve multiple purposes. My new face mask holder lanyards, work as both strategic strap and stylized bling to remind us we are down but not out. Yes, we need to wear a mask but we can also share beauty while doing so. This might seem like a small pivot, a small contribution but when all of us work together to find the joys and the beauty, that is all it takes, as we forge ahead.
Be safe Be healthy Be happy
]]>
Storytelling In The Time Of Covid
In the book of human experience, I believe COVID just might get its own chapter. This is a story quite unlike anything in our lifetime and it’s a story that is still being written on an hour-by-hour basis. Wherever you are, I hope you are safe and sound.
I am currently in my studio, but I am looking across the room at my husband who is engrossed in yet another book. He reads nearly one hundred books a year and will read just about anything he can get his hands on. When I ask, “What are you reading now?” The answer might be “The History of the Umbrella,” or “Uruguayan Pop Stars of the 1970s.” Topic wise, nothing is off limits, but from time to time I have to ask a follow up question, “Why would you read that?” His answer is almost always the same, “It’s a great story.”
This got me thinking. Hmm, story. Storytelling has been part of our species since the discovery of fire; which allowed us to determine we had a self. It allowed us to begin creating language, music, art, and this DNA is still an integral part of our existence. Yes, we are living the story of COVID, but we are also living poignant smaller stories hidden inside our current predicament.
One of my mini-stories is my rediscovery of some of the photography books in my library. When collecting books, I often seek out those created by master storytellers, photographers who create photographic essays that tell a complete story even without text. They resonate with me in a unique way that is difficult to explain.
Two books that stand out are “The Blue Room” by Eugene Richards and “The House I Once Called Home” by Duane Michals. These are beautiful wonderfully edited and sequenced gems from two very different people who have dedicated their entire lives to photographic storytelling. The work is so powerful it allows me, just for a moment, to be transported onto the page, into the story, complete self-absorption, and an escape from anything else that might be troubling me.
And when I’m done, I enter my studio and attempt to recreate that same opportunity for anyone interested in my particular form of human adornment. I look at my bead collection; lapis lazuli from Afghanistan or turquoise from New Mexico and I see stones but I also begin to imagine the story of the stone itself. From where precisely did it emerge? How many human hands passed over these surfaces and how can I hone my skills to ensure I do justice to everyone involved in the story of the stone?
And if you are reading this post it means that your story and my story are also intertwined, and for this, I’m eternally grateful.
]]>
For most of the world's population, myself included, the global pandemic has been a singularly unique challenge unlike any other in our lifetime. The pandemic has allowed us, or forced us, depending on your view, to think of the “us” and the “we” and not the “I” and the “me”. How can we make it through? How can we learn from this and be better as humans? How can we prepare for the future to ensure this doesn’t happen again? This can also be said for the "Black Lives Matter" Movement.
There are many questions, while many of the answers are still being worked out. Remaining isolated has been a challenge, especially for someone who loves human engagement, but one of the interesting discoveries has been thinking of the “we” through the lens of collaboration. I can’t hang with my friends as of yet, but I can speak with them and also find ways to work with them while we all remain at our required distance.
As a photographer, working on a long term project titled "The Cape Series" my subjects were my friends and collaboration was natural. Now as a jewelry artist; I spend each and every day in the studio but sometimes living in my own head, day after day, isn’t a healthy thing. And for those of you who know me and my head, I’m sure you can attest. So one of the things I’ve been attempting to do is work on strategic collaborative projects with fellow artists and creatives. Being around the creative world for so long means I have a lot of friends who are far more talented than I am, and fortunately, they are generous with their time and expertise.
One such project is a print piece comprised of three small Zines (informal magazine) each covering the talents and career of three individual artists while utilizing the feedback from the group with weekly zoom meetings. First is my friend Laura; an LA-based landscape designer who is creating an inspirational and visual journal of her approach and connection to the land. The second is my friend Tonia, a Santa Fe based interior designer who is also doing a journal but her Zine will focus on interior space through design, spiritual, and physical connection. Mine? Well, take a guess. Hmm, jewelry? Righto.
However, working with the group has forced me to think in a far broader way about the myth and meaning behind what I’m doing and why I’m doing it. There is nothing quite like working with a group and having them share their interpretation, insight, and direction. It’s invaluable, and perhaps more importantly, it’s uplifting in a way that feels essential. As a collective, we are stronger than the sum of our individual parts. As a species, we currently face a myriad of challenges, but collaboration has reemphasized that together we can do more and we can be more.
]]>
I’ve never been in the military. My father fought in the Korean War, was injured, and spent nearly a year of his life in a hospital in Japan. Many years later, art school was where I found my direction. Perhaps this was my way of deflecting the impact the war had on my father. Fill the world with light, creativity, and color. At least that is how it feels now, looking back.
The Marines have a slogan, one I find myself thinking about now. “Improvise, adapt, and overcome.” This is a good one, and one that not only applies to the Marines but to all of us. We all have challenges, obstacles, and issues to deal with. Regardless of how small, or how common, this slogan is one to bare in mind, one to carry with us and one to suggest to others along with a helping hand if the need arises.
A year ago I was laid off after thirty years in the corporate world, we moved, I started a new business and I felt like there were more questions than answers in my life. I often hear my father’s words, “You’ll get it Aymala, you’ll figure it out.” Improvise, adapt, and overcome. My jewelry dreams are beyond my current capability, so my days are filled with webinars, podcasts and trial and error, lots of trial and error.
Maybe the key ingredient I’m looking for is adaptation. What’s new will only be new for a short while and then it will become part of me, part of us, as we all move forward as a species and global collective. There are few certainties in life, so the rest is a fluid and ever-changing tapestry of multiple-choice questions. So here’s to improvising, here’s to adapting and here’s to overcoming whatever it is that stands in our path.
As the end of my first year, post-corporate life nears an end I find it difficult to encapsulate the changes I’ve both seen and felt. I feel so fortunate to have had the career I did. I loved my job and the life it provided, but I also realize now that this former life came with confinement so often seen in what we refer to as “corporate life.” My life for over thirty-five years was about “them.” The customer, the client, the corporation itself with its hierarchy of bosses, management, middle management, and coworkers. Suddenly, it was gone. The initial feeling was of shock, albeit not traumatic shock but just the shock of change and changing life patterns. Gone was the horrendous commute. Gone was the deadline and the timeline. Gone was the camaraderie of the team and industry. What was left was the self, something I hadn’t fully encountered for quite some time. The self, from what I’ve learned over the past year, can be challenging, surprising and unlike the self we imagined we were or imagined we had. Suddenly, I was viewing the world through a filter that I was applying and not through a filter applied by someone or something else. I have to admit, it was liberating. The choices, timelines, decisions, and feelings were now distinctly my own. I found myself asking questions I had never asked, not knowing where the answers would lead me, at least initially. But soon a pattern began to emerge, a pattern of freedom, creativity, and conversation. Old skills were refined, new skills were groomed and I began to realize my new life was that of the explorer, searching for both the known and unknown. My life as an artist and jeweler emerged as did the exact nature of what I felt I needed to accomplish. “Giving new life to old treasures,” became my mantra. My days are now filled with both the search for and the connection to past and present. Recently, I found myself walking a ridgeline in rural New Mexico. The temperature was below freezing and as the sun departed for the day I flicked on my headlamp and watched as the patterns of Mescalero petroglyphs began to emerge from the darkness around me. “Why here?” I thought as I simply sat and consumed the experience of being. What could I learn from this place? The opportunity to even think or experience this place and time was something my new life affords and for this, I am eternally grateful. I take my new role, that of the artistic explorer, seriously. If I can learn and pass along I will. The confinement of my new life now ebbs and flows based almost entirely on my talent, knowledge, understanding or lack thereof. I hope that you will come with me, in mind, spirit or even as a guest in our new van! See you out there. AmyK.