The Milagros Worked!

I have been an earring-making lunatic lately.

After many, many, many years of not wearing them because I was allergic to the various earring wires I tried, I finally realized it was nickel that was causing me grief. Sterling silver and nickel-free base metal findings are perfectly comfortable for me, so I'm having a blast making up for lost time.

This particular pair I made from the last 2 milagros I bought during our Artgirls Infamous Sacred Dirt road trip a few years ago. I simply strung 9 tiny pearls (obtained when Jamie Johnson destashed her jewelry supplies) in the center of a length of wire about 4 inches long, formed a "pearl halo" and then twisted the wires together (like one twists bread ties).

Then I threaded one strand through the hole at the top of each milagro, leaving a gap about 1/4" between the milagro and the pearl halo. I randomly wrapped that wire up and down to fill in the gap...and then made the wire wrapping thicker by doing the same thing with the remaining wire.

I learned that milagros (which means "miracle" in Spanish) are tiny metal religious charms which often depict body parts or various saints or sacred objects. They are used throughout Latin America for healing purposes and votive offerings. I love them because when I wear them I'm reminded of that wonderful and zany road trip.

Salvaged Beauty

Here's one of my favorite pieces ever. It's made largely from discarded objects I salvaged from a dump site on the Navajo Reservation in Arizona. If you look closely you'll recognize a rusted sardine tin, bottle cap, glass jar lid and silver lining from chewing gum wrappers. What is so special about this piece is that I made it while on an art retreat with some of my most favorite people, surrounded by the stark beauty of the desert southwest.


Cindi Powell (aka "Piz") and I had so much fun scrambling over the discarded junk, gleefully pulling out treasures from the unstable, chaotic mound.

"Are you up to date on your tetanus shots?" Piz asked, her R.N. training taking over.

"Probably," I shot back, completely undeterred.

Her only response was her unrestrained giggle; we were having too much fun to let things like possible lockjaw slow us down.

And so we dragged back a huge pile of "treasures" to the communal room we used for making art. Adding just a few beads and some milagros I had purchased at a flea market, I let the beauty of the "trash" shine through.