Just after I posted my griping about the PNW weather yesterday, the sky started to clear and I went out for a mountain bike ride in afternoon sun. The snow level was low, probably about 700-800 feet, so before long I rode into it. Melting snow kept falling from trees around me and freaking me out with sudden noises. Everything was dripping and sparkling. The golden sunshine and blue sky lit up the forest, making green moss and cedar branches flash brilliantly.
The suddenly vivid colors reminded me of a fascinating artist whose website I came across a few days ago. Tia Kramer makes intricate, breathtaking paper jewelry in a broad palette.
Her website is an interesting read, and not just for the jewelry – according to her artist bio, she has worked for the United States Antarctic Program (among many other great accomplishments). I’m captivated by the colors, and intrigued by her exploration of negative space.
This necklace reminds me of bubbles in glacier ice, little preserved bits of air from thousands of years ago. It also makes me think of kettle lakes.

Kettle lakes at Bridge Glacier, BC
And to me, these earrings closely resemble swamp lanterns (Lysichiton americanus), a beautiful, (somewhat) edible native plant that is lighting up the forests around here now. It’s one of the earliest flowers to emerge in spring. It’s also called skunk cabbage, which I think is rather undeserved. I like the way it smells.

Swamp lantern
I keep seeing echoes of the environment in the jewelry. I love how such elegant, simple designs generate so many mental associations. These earrings look like pink lady’s-slippers (Cypripedium acaule).

Pink lady's-slipper (photo by Thomas G. Barnes, University of Tennessee Herbarium)
It’s fascinating to explore the imagery that the jewelry’s lines evoke.












