The Work of the Hands

I was born into a home that was busy with the happy toil of hand work. My mom was always making something. Drapes, a dress for her mom, or sister; Halloween costumes (elaborate), clothes for us kids. And when she needed a break, she would garden. A great, huge, hillside transformed rock by rock, tier by tier into a profuse symphony of rhododendrons, moon lilies, ageratum, ajuga, silver mound...and that was while she was pregnant with me. Ha! No wonder I am so motivated to make things. "Making things and selling them" was my first brainstorm as a kid of what I would do with my life. I started out making what I called "Islands". It was a piece of driftwood, or a lake stone, embellished with a miniature"landscape"- a bush (a tuft of lichen), a tiny deer or bunny, white glitter for snow. I sold them at the flea market and made enough to buy all my school clothes (I got to choose). Then it was macrame`, earrings, sand candles, wood burned plaques.Man, the 70's were fabulous for crafts. Point being, hand work is in our blood. Some are closer to it, but frankly; it is an element of lifes maintenance not only necessary, but honestly - therapeutic. The stitching, the weaving, the beading, the keeping of the hands moving....works out the kinks and the struggles, stresses of the rest of living life. Perhaps that's why our culture has become so pressed and ill--not enough hand work.

So there it is. And, here it is: Curried Myrrh's first order from Free People (beautiful catalog). I am blessed, and very thankful. I bet they would have loved my macrame`....

Imazighen Collection

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Inspired by and in tribute to the tribes of the Berber people. Many Berbers call themselves some version of the name "Imazighen" (singular: 'Amazigh'), possibly meaning "free people" or "free and noble men".

Headressing created from braiding blends of repurposed and mill end cottons linens and silks. Accented with carefully composed assemblages of vintage jewelry, beads and chains.

A collection in the spirit of the tribes of North Africa, and dedicated to the struggle and to the heart-cry for truth and peace in all tribes, languages, peoples and nations.

Yakuti Collection

Introducing the first collection of 'Headressing' from Curried Myrrh, the Yakuti Collection.

 Inspired by and in tribute to the Turkic people. Clothing and headwear for tribal people was not only a means of protection from the elements and a means of artistic flair, but also had the sacral function of a mascot. Its patterns and totem decorations were meant to protect the wearer.

Hand crafted from mill end faux furs, repurposed vintage furs, discarded upholstery swatches and antique and vintage jewelry and buttons.

Wearing a Yakuti headress is not only warm and protective from the elements, but truly a powerful symbol mirroring  the beauty and complex creativity of the indigenous people of our world.

Beginnings

It is a moment in time that one conceives an idea. In between breath and blink, a flash; a realization, an incarnation of what has been only an imagination. It is a delicate moment, vaporous; or, perhaps, substantive.
The stuff of dreams, the kind that are realized. It is this 'stuff' that I address on my first post for Curried Myrrh.
That is my mother, making straw hats in Denmark in the 40's. Because 'Far' (her father) believed it a good idea, and an opportunity. They had moved from Copenhagen to a 100 yr old farmhouse in the country, and needed to make a living. Far designed the frame that Alice (my mother) built the brim of the cap on. They went to harvest the straw at a neighbors farm, my mama said; 'with socks over their shoes for boots'. Yes, my
mother said that. How amazing to be linked with this heritage in this day, I think. 
A heritage, a bloodline, a heartsong, destiny.
I know that the visions written upon our hearts lie deeper even all of the perceptions than we have within us.
They are divinely breathed, and birthed when ready.
I couldn't imagine beginning this blog in any other way than proudly showing my history. How ingenious, and clever, and brave. This is my tribe.

Thank you to Uncle Hannes who scanned these photos.