A lesson learned

Every year I go to work (and shop) at a huge bead show in Milwaukee. Every year my heart beats a bit faster as I approach a certain booth. This one particular man finds, cuts and drills the most amazing stones, fossils, vintage glass, and just about anything else he can get his hands on-including what looks like billiard balls and something he calls "ford-ite". I basically spend any free time and a good chunk of my salary at this booth. Two years ago, I bought a gorgeous ammonite fossil there and decided it would be just for me. This is rare (the decision and the fossil, both) and almost as soon as I got home, I stung it up with keishi pearls and aquamarines, bringing out the irridescent pale blues and pinks of the surface.
A few days later, I went "off-island" to do a big three-day show in the Berkshires. I love it there, but the show was not a good one for me. In foolish desperation, I put my ammonite necklace on the table. An hour later it sold. And I felt terrible. Was nothing sacred? Was I worshiping the almighty dollar? Where were my principles? Never again, I promised myself.
This past June, I was off to Milwaukee again. No sooner had I walked into the massive show, I ran into "my stone man" Gary. I went with him directly to his booth and told him the story of how I had been waiting a year to redeem myself. I found another ammonite (plus several fabulous geodes-for you) which struck me with its colors and shape. The other day, playing with some new pearls, the idea for the new necklace came together quickly- and this was the result.

~mine~

It fits my neck perfectly and the feeling of wearing something which is more than 100 million (think about that for a second) years old makes me feel grounded, connected and reminds me to appreciate this moment in time.

this fleeting world is like a star at dawn,

a bubble in a stream,

a flash of lightning in a summer cloud,

a flickering lamp, a phantom, and a dream...

- the diamond sutra