Scrapbook One Hundred One…




Things and Stuff

I don’t know what it is about things and stuff but I like to make them.


When our Santa Fe art foundry was running full speed in the early 70s, working in the pouring room was frenzied. Molten bronze was 2,000 degrees hot and scary, and the angst of spilling some on my toes made my pulse quicken some and my eyes stay wide.

After work it was time to play and unwind. A favorite hobby was making art jewelry. My repertoire included chains, kachina figures, crosses, bracelets, pendants made from spilled bronze droplets, and whatever else I could think of.


All I needed was a roll of bailing wire, some cement nails, a few welding rods, an acetylene torch, and a jar of flux. That’s all.

When visitors looked at my work and squinched I’d tell them I was going through my mid-life, avant-garde, art period. Men especially didn’t like my stuff until I gave their wives a necklace or some ear rings, then suddenly I was their hero and everyone loved my boundless talent.


I learned enough about human nature doing those things that I thought some small college in Colorado would give me an honorary PhD in Anthropology or Physiology.  But they didn’t.