Showing posts with label locket. Show all posts
Showing posts with label locket. Show all posts

Friday, 25 December 2020

On the 1st Day of Christmas...

... I give to you...
... a little souvenir.


"It's that little souvenir 
Of a terrible year
Which makes my eyes feel sore [...]"


I'm going to start off the 12 Days in an understated way, with a simple and pretty appropriate piece of jewellery. 


This enamel pin by Candles of Her Brain, says it all for me, because let's all agree 2020 has been crap for everyone, and a complete and utter shit show others, in one way or another. So this is pretty much all I'd like to take away as a memento.

The pin - though the designer doesn't specify it - is a lyric from the song Here's Where The Story Ends by The Sundays, an English alternative rock band whose debut album, Reading, Writing and Arithmetic, on which this song appears, was released in 1990, so is now thirty years old! 


I was probably still listening to my parents music in 1990, I can't remember anything specific that at age five I'd have been listening too independently, other than songs from Sesame Street or Disney movies, I mostly remember lots of singing along to The Beatles and James Taylor in the car, and Spin Doctors and Madness while dancing around in the kitchen with mum. But The Sundays weren't a band my parents would have listened

too, so I only became aware of then ten years later, thanks to the tv show Buffy The Vampire Slayer.


Are we too far into the apocalypse (pandemic) to beep her?



In Buffy they used a cover of The Rolling Stone's iconic song, Wild Horses, which is beautiful. But this song, that I listened too over and over again, is rooted in my brain, is one I love and is one that just fills me with nostalgia when I hear it. It was also a small part of why, when I was a lot younger, I was drawn to this necklace by Nick Hubbard.


Nick Hubbard, a narrative jewellery who I have admired since the day I saw and was subsequently given this locket by my parents, sadly passed away in 2013, but the jeweller wasn't alone in creating these whimsical designs. As a team he worked with his wife Jean, releasing their first collections in the early nineties, each piece stamped with a little Brick (for Nick) and a Bean (for Jean), their hallmark. The company, under Hubbards' name has continued on since his death, his wife and daughters, Phillipa and Elizabeth, along with a team of jewellers, preserving his name and creative legacy by continuing to produce his designs. Each one handmade and imbued with joy.

This piece of jewellery, and the creativity and narrative that Nick Hubbard jewellery has, has always been an inspiration to me. It made me realise early on that lockets didn't have to just be stuffy hearts or ovals. They didn't need to be engraved with scrolls of flowers. The closures, which in this case is the little spike of top of the door, didn't have to be the traditional clasp, but could be something decorative and special. 

This necklace would probably been the more beautiful and designer led piece to post as the first entry into 2020's 12 Days, but when I saw that little enamel pin, it spoke to me and seemed the perfect fit. Partly for its representation for a nostalgic song and my necklace, but as an unwittingly perfect marker for a year that I'd rather forget. 

Plus, you know I can't resist an enamelled pin!


It's Christmas Day now. So, Merry Christmas! I can't promise I'll get these out when I should, but when have I ever. And whether you celebrate the day or not, even in a year where we're not all together, we're back in lockdown, and nothing seems quite right, I hope you have a good day. Eat, drink, hopefully get a gift, watch some telly and crash out without any fear of judgement. After this year, we all deserve it. 


Merry Christmas! Day two tomorrow...


Link || Candle of Her Brain || Etsy || Instagram || Twitter || Facebook || Pinterest
Link || 2020 Little Souvenir of a Terrible Year - Typeface Enamel Pin || Etsy
Link || Nick Hubbard || Website || Instagram || Facebook || Not On The High Street
Link || The Sundays || Wikipedia || YouTube || Spotify || Apple Music  
Link || Buffy The Vampire Slayer || IMDb || Wikipedia || Rotten Tomatoes

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Listening: Here's Where The Story Ends - The Sundays

Sunday, 15 August 2010

I Carry Your Heart With Me

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
i fear
no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

- EE Cummings

I saw this design for Capsule Letters on a random website I was linked too via another blog, called Poketo and it reminded me of that EE Cummings poem, I Carry Your Heart With Me. In all fairness, it also reminded me of Ted Noten's solid gold Wedding Pills but I prefer Cummings.

I wasn't the type of person to carry around photos of friends or deeply meaningful nicknack's when I was younger, unless you count a huge number of cinema tickets meaningful. But my friend Fe wrote out Max Ehrmann's Desiderata and Billy Connolly's alternative Desiderata for me when we were in second year of uni. I think it was because I'd never read them and I was a bit low at the time, but I folded them up, put them in my wallet and then got it stolen the following year. Gutted. I loved that purse and I loved that my friend had taken the time to hand write these HUGE poems for me. Anyway, the point is, I rewrote Ehrmann's version and stuck it in my new - distinctly suckier - purse and they're the only none currency/identification I do carry.

However, I'm really attracted to this design, partially because of my partiality for boxes and lockets and hiding things away, partly because of the novelty of the pill form. So like the poem in my purse, you open it up, read the content and feel a little better. It's not a pill to cure all ills, but it's a sweet placebo.

via - Poketo!
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Listening: Ryan Adams - Rescue Blues
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