Wednesday, July 12, 2006

New Dimensions



My mind and heart groaned from "overload", trying to reconcile current events of this past year with my concept of, if not a perfect, at least an equitable world. One I would like to live in.

A world free of conflict and the nasty elements of war, greed, violence, corruption . . . .

Overload, all circuits are busy or burn-out, call it what you will, occurred during Memorial Day Weekend.

Now, few speak of love and compassion. Nor do they speak of cultural and humanitarian heroes; only of war criminals and all that entails.

Have you noticed the current statistics on America's crime rate increase? As if that's a mystery. People become what they hear the most. How could violent crime decrease when every newspaper and television show is focused on violence?

America is not an enlightened nation. The year 2003 marked its descent backwards to the dark ages and it hasn't poked its head above the mire since.

Where does one go to hide from the constant barrage of man's unleashed inhumanity to man?

Me? I hide in creativity. Design a handful of necklaces, some bracelets and a few miscellaneous. Wearable miscellaneous, now isn't that a hoot.

It would be immensely difficult for me to design simplistic jewelry. A seashell strung on a leather cord is beyond my capabilities. These, by the way, are currently selling in national marketplaces for $30. Amazing.

No. If I were going to create a necklace, I wouldn't drill a hole in a ten-cent seashell, string it on a leather cord, sans clasp and charge thirty dollars. I would feel guiltier than sin. For these items are tokens of friendship given free of charge by teenagers, each to another.

If I were going to create a necklace, first I would learn how to flame glass, then lampwork a focal bead. A bead of the ocean and white-capped waves with flowers floating atop the wave crests. Then, I would learn some silversmithing skills and, perhaps, dangle a silver hummingbird below the bead. For symbolism's sake. Hummingbirds bring the wearer good luck. Building upwards, I'd alternate fancy silver beads with more lampworked "ocean" beads and I'd finish with an intricately designed silver clasp.
A local jewelry and bead expert would tell me to price it at $150 and after seeing what is selling for $30 in the national market, I would believe $150 to be fair for the value received.
Except . . . . I will never sell it. It's a mystical piece born of seafoam and hummingbird wings weighted to reality by the silver metals of earth.
It's a showy piece, too. Vivid in its drama of beauty. Perhaps, if I wear it often enough, it will help clue folks in to a different reality.
Or
Perhaps, create something in silver showcasing amber-silvered beads representing light . . .
Silver wave forms lighting the world. That's about right.


Creating war is a bloodthirsty business which destroys the soul of mankind. There are alternate dimensions where we can create things of beauty which enrich the eye of the beholder and touch the symbolism each person carries within the heart which yearns for a more perfect world.

Only joy, laughter, love, compassion and beauty, shared each with all others, can get us there.
New Dimensions © 2006 Chaeli Lee Sullivan

Monday, July 10, 2006

Symbiosis

The age of my Mother has passed.

Thank goodness I was able to totally embrace her and love her before she began her next journey, for after her passing there would be no further chance to resolve my inner issues with motherhood and the daughterhood relationship.

How do I view all women older than myself?

I view them as gentle, sweet replicas of my Mother. They have an inner purity, are of inestimable value, have a sense of humor and a sense of fun, and they enjoy delight in all modern inventions, especially refrigerators with ice-makers on the outside of the door.

If re-incarnation were a factor, I would expect to find my Mom on an Apollo space shuttle ready for the next exploratory adventure. Or perhaps I'd find her on the other side of a ping-pong table as she laughingly scored every winning point. She would be telling some humorous story and I, doubled over in laughter, would miss the ball.

Did we always see world occurrences from the same perspective? Absolutely not. She was a Republican. And I? Was a Democrat.

Were we always in perfect harmony? Perfect sinc? No. Ahem. We were not.

Was there a Super-Glue so strong that it bonded our heartstrings across the endless miles of emotions? Yes.

Knowing me more perfectly than I knew myself, she used her innate ability to enable me to see the magic of the universe. With a gentle hug, she comforted me and enabled me to see peace, when I, who oh so seriously, took upon myself the heavy burden of fixing a society gone awry; a society which burgeoned its members with wars, indiscriminately killing compassion, generosity and love.

How often did I hear her say: "Don't fret so, Chicken Little. The world is just as it should be. Laugh at its absurdities."

Often, I heard her voice trilling in song so harmoniously beautiful that it could charm the most melodious songbird into a duet. She could make every flower in the garden bloom.

Would I like to be "just like my Mom"?

You betcha. She was the grandest dame in life's chorus line and that ain't no mean feat.
Symbiosis © 2006 Chaeli Lee Sullivan