The Tell Tale Heart Amethyst Collection will be available on Friday, November 22, at 3:30 pm Central Time. Thank you for checking out my work!
My latest collection goes deep into my heart and my family history. It explores themes that have passed from mother to mother in my family for generations.
I chose these specimens back in September, and have worked on the designs slowly over the past two months. I needed to allow them to speak to me and develop in their own way and in their own time. My way of working is rooted in allowing things to emerge and not forcing them. If that means that a collection takes longer to be completed or comes in fits and starts then so be it. I have to create in the way that feels right for me and trust that it is all unfolding the way it is meant to.
Featuring a variety of amethyst from Uruguay and Tibet, it explores the false perceptions we hold of ourselves and how they are inadvertently passed down through our family lineage.
I have seen in my own life how simply acknowledging deep seated fears and allowing them to be, gives them a chance to dissolve on their own. I know I’m not the only one who struggles with living in the shadow of dark family patterns so I want to share what I’m discovering here. If it helps one other person then it’s worth it!
The following excerpt from my personal journal holds the words that inspired this entire collection:
When I was born it’s as if my mother's heartbeat was replaced with the steady chorus of “I’m bad, I’m bad, I’m bad…” On an on. The new rhythm, nourishing and strangely comforting me. Giving me life. “I’m bad. I’m bad. I’m bad.”
My life up until recently has been about proving it wrong or proving it right. It doesn’t matter which. They’re both the same, and my life has mostly revolved around this reliable beat in one way or another. “I’m bad. I’m bad. I’m bad.” My very own tell-tale heart. I’m sure everyone can hear it. They know before I even utter a word. Maybe that’s part of why I fell in love with Poe’s work when I first come across it as a young teenager.
I know I’ve passed this beat on to my children. I never wanted to. Oh how I ached for babies that never knew this rhythm was possible.
Maybe I passed it when I buried my face into their soft little baby necks night after night. Pressing it into their cheeks as I kissed them mercilessly.
Maybe they got it because that’s all that ever beat in my heart and was the only beat that I ever really heard. That is what my mothers heart actually sang to me.
I heard her steady rhythm of “I’m bad. I don’t deserve. That’s for those people but not for me.”
I had no choice. She had no choice either. Her orphaned mother left with the only conclusion a 16 month old can have when a mother goes and never comes back.
The beat I hear echos back through time. To 1918 when Theresa’s mother didn’t return home.
How many mothers have never returned home, and does it really matter if it was by choice that they stayed away or by death. The beat that replaces their steady heartbeat of love is always the same. “I’m bad. I’m bad I’m bad”
I’m hoping, though sharing this collection and the inspiration behind it that has come from my own personal struggles, that others will find support in looking straight into their own hearts and the fear that may be living there in order to move through and, eventually, beyond them.