Who first tied a claw or a shiny pebble on strip of leather and worn it as a decoration? — or a declaration?
For longer than recorded history, we have defined our differences and our allegiances, carried our memories and our wealth in the form of jewelry — very often in the form of beads. We have collected them, traded them, hoarded them, lost them. We have burned forests to make them, traded worlds for them. They have been the domain of kings, the fascination of children, the comfort of the bereaved, the lure for the greedy. They are pedestrian, they are art, they are ubiquitous, they are magic.
I'm fascinated with the timelessness of personal adornment — and the universal appeal of jewelry. The primal urge that causes us to hang decoration on our bodies. The endless fascination with beads, with glass a unique substance that defies logic, defies description, defines magic.
Glass, in particular, is a strange and wonderful substance. Hard, strong, brittle, clear, transparent, opaque, malleable, immutable, impervious, corruptible — what else is so ethereal and so solid at the same time?
And then, there is the process … is there anything with a more primal appeal than fire? Melting the glass, shaping it with heat and gravity - tools that you can't see, can't touch. One dangerous and the other so ubiquitous it is beyond noticing.
Oh, those golden days when the glass does everything you ask, and more. Magic, just magic!
I can ride a horse, drive a stick-shift, milk a goat, tell a story, paint a picture, change a tire, bake cookies, build a web site, bandage a wound, teach a dog to come when called. I read Douglas Adams, Terry Pratchett and J. K. Rowling. I watch "West Wing," "CSI," and cartoons. I believe in big bold Cabernets, real butter, rare steaks, and death by chocolate. I know the international phonetic alphabet. I believe in the power of duct tape. Specialization is for insects. I am "DragonJools."