A very good friend of mine is about to move. And not into any old house, but a >150 year old rehabbed work-of-art house in historic downtown Cincinnati. When they bought the property nearly two years ago it was trashed. Not just trashed, but DECIMATED. A hub for a wide variety of unsavory activities, to put it nicely. Floorboards were rotted out clear through to the basement. Stairs to the second and third floors were missing. No running water, no electricity, no legal occupants for decades. It smelled. I toured the property when they first purchased it and my jaw was on the floor.
My friend's husband is a very talented contractor---some would say he's an artist, although I'm sure he'd balk at that, being the "man's man" that he is. He takes old, dilapidated, historic buildings and materials and gives them new life. Over the past two years, I've been fortunate to witness his work on this house at various stages:
We have a front door!
We can walk to the third floor!
We have working lights!
We have toilets!
My favorite part of their new home is the plaster walls. These original walls, they're gloriously scratched, coated with layers of layers of paint and wallpaper, stained from years of water and smoke damage. Rather than patch, sand, and paint over all this history, they chose to expose it---strip off the paint in some areas, let a patch of color pop through here, maybe a snippet of brick there. They sealed the walls with quality sealant, not unlike what I use when sealing ceramics, metal, or polymer. And now they are breathtaking.
The amount of work he put into this place has been dizzying. He has
turned it into a glorious, sexy, rustic, urban-industrial piece of art,
all while honoring its roots. The time has finally come for them to
leave their current home and move into this labor of love, so they've
been on my mind this week.
I tell this story because today's earrings remind me of those plaster walls. The ceramic drops at the bottom are made by the lovely Claire of somethingtodobeads. They have been sawdust fired, giving them that smoky, fumed, earthy look. Some of the outer layers have crackled away, exposing other layers, just like with those walls. I love them and have been saving them for a special pair. I capped them with wee bead caps and hung them from old two-toned striped African glass trade beads and big blobs of blackened silver solder. Delightfully swingy, edgy, and tribal.
Love you, Susan!
Happy Wednesday,
Nikki
LoveRoot on Etsy
For those who have known me since childhood, it will come as no surprise to hear me say that I'm a fan of frogs and toads. I don't know what it is, but they have always made me squeal and immediately squat down to try and catch them. Mind you, not to hold them captive or torture or scare them, but to give their little heads a tap and whisper some cute equivalent of "who's a good boy".
Even today as an adult I have the same reaction, much to the chagrin
(and embarrassment) of my husband. I don't care if a grown-ass woman
shouldn't be chasing frogs in a creek, I'm gonna do it. Because I do what
I want.
Ground zero for this favorite pastime was my grandparents' farm in central Ohio. They had several acres on which they grew various crops, most importantly strawberries. Locally famous for their pick-your-own berries, their farm was a haven for my brother and I growing up. And especially when it came to the small pond sitting at the back of their land. You wouldn't believe the frogs, fish, turtles, snakes, insects, and fowl that would flock to this watering hole. In the spring you could see velvety soft tadpoles teeming around the shallow edges. As the year progressed, they morphed into wee frogs the size of a quarter and would sun themselves on the embankments. We tried to quietly creep up on them but their keen froggy senses warned them every single time, sending them plopping back into the water with a chorus of "eeeeps". If they were lucky enough to survive adolescence, they would grow into one of the many grandaddy bullfrogs that would serenade us with deep, throaty "moos" while we were picking strawberries in the fields. To this day, if you want me to tear up, just put me in a wide open field on a hot, sunny, breezy day and let me listen to the frogs.
My earrings for today feature small smooth stone bullets of limey green serpentine. The mottled colors and patterns on these stones remind me of the amphibians I adore so much. I have hung them beneath stacks of precious bits, as I am wont to do: grungy antique clear glass "dogon" beads from Africa, two-tone tiger kamagong ebony wood beads from the Philippines, vintage brass saucers, and wee star-shaped metal bead caps. I added in some decorative blackened silver soldering, as I am also wont to do, and hung everything from my extra long curvy copper ear wires.
For all of the nostalgia and anecdotes that I share on this blog, I suppose I do have a loose theme that ties them all together, and today's post is no different. Please don't ever become so jaded that you lose your wonder for the world and its tiny miracles. Even if it's as simple as stopping to hear the frogs sing.
Happy Wednesday!
Nikki
LoveRoot on Etsy
Sometimes in life you just need someone to tell you:
...you're alright, kid...
...you done good...
...you're a superstar...
Go ahead, laugh, but I'm serious! Think about it. As children, we're rewarded all the time when we ace a spelling test, or draw a pretty (read: hot mess) picture, or build a wonky sandcastle on the beach.
As adults, we're lucky if we get some garbled recognition from our boss on a job well done, or if our tired spouse mumbles that the dinner you cooked was good, or if a neighbor stops to comment on how nice your flower garden looks. We just don't get the positive reinforcement that we became accustomed to as kids.
Now don't get me wrong, there's nothing worse than an inflated ego, but when we're typically our own worst critics, it can be really refreshing to hear someone else appreciate our hard work.
Well, I'm here to tell you that you're awesome. You get a gold star...or at least a couple rusty patina-ed ones.
These cute little spiky stacked earrings feature ceramic horns from Marsha Neal along with some prized African bauxite, old Neolithic quartz trade beads, and crusty metal spacers. I love the verdigris-meets-terracotta color palette, and I love the subtle faded military theme with the little star charms.
So the next time you're feeling a little beaten up, take a second to pat your own back and realize how hard you really do work.
Happy Wednesday!
Nikki
LoveRoot on Etsy
A very good friend of mine is about to move. And not into any old house, but a >150 year old rehabbed work-of-art house in historic downtown Cincinnati. When they bought the property nearly two years ago it was trashed. Not just trashed, but DECIMATED. A hub for a wide variety of unsavory activities, to put it nicely. Floorboards were rotted out clear through to the basement. Stairs to the second and third floors were missing. No running water, no electricity, no legal occupants for decades. It smelled. I toured the property when they first purchased it and my jaw was on the floor. 
The amount of work he put into this place has been dizzying. He has
turned it into a glorious, sexy, rustic, urban-industrial piece of art,
all while honoring its roots. The time has finally come for them to
leave their current home and move into this labor of love, so they've
been on my mind this week. 
