So many have asked about what brought Jennifer’s sudden and untimely death. We don’t really know the details yet and may not know for a good while. The following is written for all who are interested in knowing what I and my family know about Jennifer’s last moments here on this plain. It is also written as a testament of promises I intend to keep. It is written for family and friends and it is written for those who cared enough to send their condolences. This feels like public grieving and TMI for the people who didn’t know her but to me, it also has a healing quality. Not that I’m healed but this is the first step for me.

Jennifer was my big sister. My only sibling. She died a couple of days shy of being 42 years and one month old. Many times in life, we felt as though all we had was each other. She was laid to rest on September 29th, 2011, exactly one month after her birthday, which was July 29th, 1969. One of my biggest fears in life had been realized when my mother called to tell me the doctors at Duke had given her the news that Jennifer had passed.

About two years ago, I began to obsess over the approach of our 42nd birthdays.  Hers would occur first, mine would follow 18 months later. Our father died at this age, exactly six months after his 42nd birthday. I was nearly convinced that one of us would pass at the same age as our father. I told myself I was only being paranoid but still, the horrible feeling wouldn’t go away. I couldn’t’t shake it.  It was an obsession for awhile. It creeps me out to share this so openly. Until Jennifer passed, the only person I had shared this fear with was my husband. I remember talking to him about it. He helped me get through it, reassuring me that I was only attached to this number because my dad passed at age 42.

My fear became a reality last Saturday and I feel nearly crippled by it. It will take me a long time to find normal again. Nothing feels normal. Everything feels new and strange and I feel lost in the midst of it. I will never see my sister again, during this life. Never will I hear her voice again. She won’t be at Christmas celebrations. She won’t come to stay with me for visits.

The day Jenny died, I woke up late which is extremely rare for me. 9:30 am. I fed my dogs, got my coffee and sat down to check my email. The phone rang and it was my sister’s number. It’s still on my incoming call list for Sept 24th. 10:05 am is the exact time that it rang. The call lasted for exactly 4.5 minutes. I was on the phone with her from the time her seizure started until it ended. I had no idea what was happening. I only heard muffled voices in the background and some moaning.  A female voice telling someone to roll Jennifer over on her side. A male voice repeating my sister’s name over and over again.

All I could do was scream into my phone, hoping that my sister would hear me and pick up the phone. I had no idea what was happening but I knew it was something major. I remember thinking “OMG. Is someone killing my sister?!”  During the last minute of the call, things became very quiet.  I hung up with the intention of calling back to see if I could get her to pick up the phone.

In the meantime, her son Daniel (he lives with me), woke up because he heard me yelling his mom’s name.  I told him what had happened and asked him to dial his mom’s phone. I couldn’t’t do it, I was so frozen by fear that I couldn’t’t dial the number. Daniel called and a lady answered Jenny’s phone. She told him that his mom had a 4 and a half minute grand mal seizure.

When the ambulance arrived, Jennifer didn’t have a pulse and she wasn’t breathing. She was transported to Duke hospital. They worked to revive her for two hours, calling her death officially at 11:58 a.m. I am sure she was gone before then.

Saturday 9/24, was her first day at work. She had gone to work at Subway.  I called Subway later that day to let them know that Jenny had passed and to thank them for trying to help her. The manager answered. He was with Jenny when she had the seizure. He said that he was showing Jennifer how to clock in when she told him she didn’t feel well.  She told him her heart was racing. He had her sit down for a minute to see if it would pass and then, a moment later he looked over and saw her messing with her phone, as though she was making a call or sending a text message. Suddenly, she fell into the floor and began seizing.

When we received Jennifer’s possessions, the first thing we looked at was her phone. The screen was broken. I guess that happened when she dropped her phone on the floor. Still though, half of the screen works well enough to see the last activity to and from her phone. I wanted to see the call that she made at 10:05 am on Saturday, September 24th.   I don’t know why I wanted to see it, but I did.  The last call she made at 10:05 went to her boyfriend. He didn’t get the call, I did. How in the world is this possible?

This morning I looked at the caller ID on my home phone, just to be sure I was recalling the time of her phone call correctly. Sure enough, my sister’s number is on my phone as an incoming call at exactly 10:05 am, last Saturday.  As I was verifying this, my husband walked in the room and asked what I was doing. I told him and he said, “Um, look at the clock. It’s exactly 10:05 right now.” How strange that I would be checking this detail at exactly 1 week to the day, to the  minute, that she had her seizure and made her very last call to me.

At this point, I believe my sister reached out to me as death approached her with the help of divine intervention.  I absolutely cannot explain how a call made to her boyfriend ended up coming through my phone. It makes no sense. It’s impossible but it happened.  I have the proof in my hands right now and no matter how many times I look at it, I cannot explain it.

To those who couldn’t make it to Jennifer’s funeral, despite the fact that she had no insurance, she was given a beautiful Christian burial by our mother and stepfather.  Our uncle, David, held the service at graveside. Jennifer’s casket was carried by her children, Daniel and Cheyenne and my son, Tony, her cousins, Eric and Richie as well as David’s son in law, Chris.  Jennifer loved Celtic music. Her daughter Cheyenne chose “Amazing Grace” by Celtic Woman. As the bag pipes began to play, Jennifer’s casket was carried to graveside. For some reason, more than any other moment I had experienced earlier in the week, this particular moment stands out the most. Jennifer would have been or IS, so honored in knowing that these loved ones carried her to her eternal resting place.  She loved them so much.

So many came out to say good bye, to the funeral home for the viewing and to the graveside service. So many faces that I hadn’t seen in years. Many unfamiliar faces among them. Jennifer had so many friends and people that loved her.  Her memory was honored and as we, her children, myself and my mom, gathered to let the dove fly into the sky on his journey home, we felt that she too had gone home to rest in peace. After many hours and a couple of days of heavy thought, I can’t help but to feel she has not made that journey yet. I feel she is waiting and watching until some of the work she wanted to do is finished.

Jennifer leaves behind three grown children, John, Cheyenne and Daniel.  Once I get through the initial stages of my grief, I will be there for them. I will make sure they stay bonded to one another and give them guilt trips should they become too distant from one another.

To: John, Cheyenne and Daniel, I am sure you will read this.. .Never forget your mother loved you all.   I am blessed to have a special connection with each of you. Through you, she still lives. I can see her in your eyes, your faces and your smiles. I love you kids very much and I promise, once I get my feet back on the ground, I (and uncle Mark), will be here for you until the day I make my own journey home.  I feel pretty confident that Ashley and Tony will be also. It is of the highest importance to me that you five create and maintain a lifelong bond. Jenny wanted this. It was important to her and now, it’s extremely important to me. It feels as though she left me with a full on task list of things to do. I knew her better than anyone else every did. I’ll handle the work she didn’t get a chance to finish. Not today, but hopefully soon. Please remember that I am here and that I love each one of you with so much of my heart.

To Jennifer:  I would say, rest in peace, my sister but somehow, I feel your rest is going to be delayed for a little while because my own peace will not come so easily and I may have to call on you for strength and direction from time to time. I didn’t do that much during our life together. Your need of me gave me purpose. God sent me to be your sister for the emotional support that I would give you and he gave you to me as a sister because I needed to be needed.  We were a good fit and I’m sorry for the times I failed you. We have work to do and after that work is done, you shall rest in peace and I will see you again when I join you.

I lost my sister today. My only sibling. She died suddenly at age 42.

Rest in peace my sister. Everyone says you’ll always be with me but I’m pretty sure you took a part of me along with you when you left because I feel so empty. . . So sorry for the times I wasn’t a good sister and friend. I miss you and my heart is broken into so many pieces that I can’t even count them. I love you always.

Jennifer Workman Barcenas

 July 29, 1969 – Sept 24, 2011

While pondering the elusive ways of humanity, I began thinking about what life on earth as an Utopian society could possibly be like.  What about games? Leadership roles? If everyone is equal, there would be no more competition because one of the drivers of the competitive nature seems to come from one’s need to prove one’s self. In Utopia, I can only imagine that games would eventually be phased out due to their lack of importance. Or, perhaps games would be played without the winner being recognized. . .Everyone gets the same prize for good sportsmanship and participation. Where’s the fun in that, though?? Why compete if you’re not going to be the only one who wins a gold medal?

What happens to the individual spirit in the Utopian society?? Or does it still exist at all? Would anyone have personal freedom? I doubt it. It may seem so in the beginning. . .Everyone doing what they love because it creates a happy spirit, but who’s plowing the fields as everyone sits enjoying their quality “me time”.  Who’s cooking dinner, and doing the chores? And what’s the punishment for not pulling one’s own weight? Well, nevermind that because in Utopia, there would be no punishment because everyone would know just what to do to keep unity, en mass. Everyone would agree on EVERYTHING. No one would have a point of view that would differ from their neighbor because that would cause the disruption that doesn’t exist in such a society. And THIS would be why I love the world and I love reality. . .Although brutal at times, it still has much to offer. In many cultures we think for ourselves, we have the right to our own points of view should we choose to express them. Competition and goal achievement  is a way of life and when we lose, we have the opportunity to decide whether to make peace with the loss or continue training for the next competition.

I love the world for all of its flaws. I love humans for all of their flaws. . I love reality and I love Utopia, but to me, it is only a fantasy rather than a vision and now that I am ending this session of outward mind ramble, I’m beginning to see why I choose reality. It’s the unexpectedness of what tomorrow may bring, the excitement, the emotion, the up, the down and the everything in between. The learning moments, the teaching moments and the quiet moments.

I make beads. . .They are my utopic fantasy expressed in concrete form. Little worlds where if I’m having a good day, everything is beautiful and in perfect harmony. I think this is why I like hearts so much these days. . .To me, they are symbolic of perfect unconditional love. Oh, there I go with that Utopian vision again but as I’ve already stated, it does live in my soul. . .

Romantic Obsession

I had planned to go back to school, originally for a bachelors, then I decided on a masters. After that, I thought, what the heck, why not a doctorate? I was all ready to go when it occurred to me how much personal freedom I would lose over the next six long and potentially BORING years. Psychology fascinates me. Anyone close to me can well confirm this, but to be  quite honest, I find myself without the ability to acclimate myself in this particular field, even though the idea is really good in theory and I’m sure I would enjoy it. Perhaps it is that I have commitment issues or maybe now is just not the time. Honestly, I’ve found far more personal inspiration and fulfillment through my astrological studies. Most of my “free” time goes to personal readings for friends and the study of worldly and regional mundane events. It’s exciting work. I find it to be time well spent and more emotionally stimulating than any other way that I could find to spend my “quiet time”.  So, at this point, after giving it thought for about 6 months, I’ve decided to go to a specialized school for archetypal astrology/psychological astrology. Funds are the difficult part. . .The education will cost me about 6 grand out of my own pocket so who knows when I’ll get to start. But fantasizing about it, is most certainly rewarding even though it gives me a goal that may be viewed by others as being unorthodox and strange. This field of study is actually what I’ve wanted to do from the get-go but what kept me from taking the idea seriously is the thought that others may not take me seriously, and that in the end, I would be viewed by everyone I knew as yet another eccentric weirdo whose unattached to reality. (I don’t think of astrologers this way, I just know people who do.) My mind is made up at this point. 2010 has taught me that carrying fears based on what others may think of me is hardly conducive to my personal success. I have a strong connection with my own soul and I need no one to validate my goals other than myself. SO LOOK HERE,  2011!. . .I’m jumping on your back and I have every intention of breaking you down and OWNING YOU! Although I may do it quietly, as I have a fear of public microscopes.

For the first time in my years as a career bead maker, I’m going to be teaching group classes. In the past, the idea of teaching has filled me with uncontrollable anxiety. Again, it’s fear.  Such an ugly word it is, but we ALL fear things. Every single one of us. Even the crazy daredevils we see on TV, and the crazy people that walk into our lives who wish to show us that not only are they totally unhinged but that they HAVE NO FEAR. Well, friends, they are the ones who carry the DEEPEST wells of fear induced anxiety, hence their projected unconventional and often times irrational, way of projecting themselves. Their need to prove how crazy they are stems from fear. So, my thought is this. . .If people can publically make spectacles of themselves by doing really stupid and dangerous things all while screaming about how they HAVE NO FEAR, then why can’t I buck it up and teach a few lampwork classes? So I am going to do just that, but not outside of the US or any place that I can’t drive to because as worldly traveled as I’d like to be, I have a strong FEAR of flying. Hopefully one day I can overcome it. . . I’m looking into psychological therapy. Lol

If anyone reading this is interested in classes, please visit this link for further info.

2010 was not a pleasant year for me and the consensus seems to be that it wasn’t for a lot of people. I’ve decided to have faith in 2011, so if you’re in my camp of “2010 TOTALLY BLEW!”, I hope you can find some faith in 2011, as well.  If not, then just try the mindset on anyway, then spin around in a circle in front of your mirror. It’s one size fits all!  I’m sure it’ll look great on you!   

Happy 2011!!!

My clarity of interest in this vocation came when I began studying the works of Carl Jung, and psychological astrologer, Liz Greene.  Being the skeptic that I am, I had to learn to read natal charts in order to see the connections between natal chart planetary placements and the psychological makeup of one’s personality. This to me was so enlightening that I could not escape the grip of what felt like a crazed obsession to investigate and discover as much as I could about this specialized profession. I began pulling charts on family members, friends and pretty much anyone else who would grace me with their birth information.  This is what I’ve been doing since January of this year and while the period has been relatively short, I’ve learned enough to know that THIS is where I’m going. . .Back to school to earn my psychology degree and obtain my PAC certification.

My interest in astrology isn’t for the purpose of “fortune telling” or the like. I’m not interested in predicting personal or even worldly mundane events. I’m interested in helping to heal the the psychological wounds that result in human suffering.  My career as lampwork bead artist has provided me with a desperately needed transformation of self confidence. This wouldn’t have been possible without so many of you in my corner.  Please know that your acceptance and appreciation of my work is now the solid foundation in which I plan to launch the second phase of my life. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you.

I do intend to continue to make beads for a REALLY long time to come. It will take me at least three years to get my BA and it’s highly doubtful that I will ever abandon my love of glass or the friends that I’ve made through this exciting profession. I would miss you all too much and my soul would suffer the loss. After all, part of the reason that I’m so drawn to this new passion is to help artists who are suffering from severe periods of depression or heavy blocks in creativity, both of which plague the artistic psyche and during those times the emotional pain can be so intense that it’s nearly debilitating. Often through studying the charts of gifted artists, I found that a great deal of heavy suffering took place in the early life of the artist. Their charts reflect watery empathic souls, seemingly almost programmed to expect nothing more than tragedy and suffering. I think that through healing some of the psychological wounds suffered, a transformation of soul and creative clarity can be achieved. I do admit my ideals are high, but I’m willing to throw my coins into the pot to find out  for sure.

Okay, so now that I’ve made my quarterly blog post, I suppose I can go enjoy some beautiful and NON HUMID weather, good music, awesome company (Mark) and a glass of cold Pinot G!

Hope you all have a nice holiday!

Sometimes when I create a bead, my mind goes on trip through an imaginary world and within that bead, I see what my soul was thinking during it’s creation. Strangely, I’m not always in present mind at the torch. I’m in a different place. As bizarre as it sounds, I feel that I have one foot in the spirit world, and one in material reality. The spirit world side is spinning a tale, while the reality side is listening to audio or watching tv. Thankfully my guardian angel keeps an eye on me during torch sessions, otherwise I might get hurt.

Speaking of angels, that is what I see when I look at the Garden of Grace beads. . .Beautiful angels in gauzy transparent blush garments looking over a blossoming garden of pink English roses. Hal0s of golden sunlight ring their heads, as they sit comfortably on white marble pedestals, gently strumming their golden harps. If one were to walk into that garden, they would not see the angels but they would feel their comfort, grace and harmony.

Sounds like a Victorian scene, doesn’t? I guess is sort of is, but my imagination sees something more magical and mystical and that is the “soul” message in this bead. Normally I wouldn’t share this little story. . .It feels rather strange to do so, for the most part I like to come across in a less personal way as not to appear strange or unusual. This fact seems like a small thing, but it’s not. It’s actually part of what has driven me into seclusion. I think if I share more, I’ll be able to get back into the world again somehow.  I know, I keep saying this over and over and somehow still I stay wrapped up in my little world.

Those of you that consider yourselves to be artists, whether visual or musical, may know exactly what I am talking about.  In early childhood, we are allowed to create art in class and creativity is encouraged, but things change drastically in first and second grade where we become far more focused on left brained development. When a child resists the curriculum due to heavy right brained orientation, their life can become very difficult. Often times they hear, “It was JUST your imagination.” or “pay attention and stop daydreaming!”  by parents, teachers and elders. What happens then, is that child begins to hide or suppress their right brained talents. This happened to me, but it’s not the fault of my parents, teachers or elders. We live in a fast paced world, where technology and intellect rule society. I can’t say this is bad, obviously. Look how far we have come in the past 200 years in terms of technological advancement. Still, for me personally, art is “where it’s at”.  Artistic expression unlocked the key to my soul and learning to just be myself has been a big part of my artistic development.

If someone tells you, “Hurry up! Stop daydreaming!”, ignore them. Just keep right on walking through that mystical, magical world of imagination and bring back with you whatever you can harvest from your journey. That place is where art lives, and if you are an artist, you will find your soul there also.

Taurus Moon

 Between my studies and my time in the studio, I’ve again neglected my blog duties. Of course if those two things were not “in the way”, it would be something else. For example, “I couldn’t get to blogging last month. .. I had to feed my dogs.” Okay, so in the mean time as I’m snagging some spare minutes and forcing myself to write a few lines, I thought maybe you’d enjoy hearing about the Taurus Moon beads. . .How they’re made, and perhaps what inspired them.

The Taurus Moon beads are definitely a recent favorite of mine. Not because I love to wear things with pretty pink roses. In fact, I don’t wear pink, nor do I wear roses. I wear tshirts and blue jeans, pajamas and no jewelry. Still, these little orbs of decedent beauty set my soul on fire when I look at them. I think I may have mentioned that I used to be an avid rose gardener.  This is either a former part of my self or just one who lies dormant until I have time to once again take care of a rose garden. They require a great deal more love and time than I have to give during this phase of my life.  Expressing my love them through glass feeds my soul.

The base can only be described as “ethereal”.  Most of the beads have tonal shifts beneath the clear surface, ranging in tones of pastel pink, mint green and gold with cloudy opalescent striations.  There’s just something magical about it and the pink rose murrini chips are perfectly at home in this opulent environment.  There is no real secret to getting the look either. . .Just a little patience, a rod of pale aqua transparent, Double Helix’s Aurae and some Moretti pastel white.  Even without the rose chips, the base glass has much to offer. The core of the bead is white, encased with Aurea, reduced and then encased with transparent aqua. The rest is careful application of murrini chips and some decorative leaves made of DaVinci and emerald green dots.

Well, off to the torch I go. Have a great afternoon!!!

When I started journaling, I wasn’t having a creative block or anything. . .It was more of a crisis in consciousness. I’m 39, the jumping off age for the proverbial “mid-life crisis” experience.  On or around my last birthday, my days were becoming plagued with the usual questions one asks themselves during this approaching period, “What will I do with the rest of my life?” , “How can I make a difference?”, “Am I set on the right course for full-filling my soul’s purpose?”  I still don’t know the answers to these questions but I think if I keep journaling, the answers may reveal themselves through my chicken-scratch text.  In the meantime, I’ve set some goals for myself.  Topping that list is the sharing of a poem I wrote a couple of weeks ago. At first, I didn’t know what it was about because I wrote it so quickly that it seemed to have a life of it’s own. It poured through my fingertips and onto the paper almost as though someone else had written it.

I’ve studied it a bit since and now I can see exactly what inspired it and where it came from. I won’t tell. . .That’s my secret and the mystery behind it’s writing is some of what I think makes it appealing. So, I’ll leave the interpretation up to those of you who read it. That is the beauty and enjoyment of all things art related. We as the beholder of artistic work can decide what the artist is projecting, right? Having said that, I think I want to use this  amateur piece of poetry as inspiration for a bead that embodies it’s message. 

The point behind this post is two-fold. I want to share what I consider to be a personal revelation in hopes that you will find the inspiration to explore some of the talents or dreams that you’ve abandoned through maturity. Most often, they don’t actually die on the vine. . .They are only dormant and patiently waiting for a change in season. 

The Martyr

by Lydia Muell

Blue cast shadows on dew kissed window panes

radiate from palms that reflect one thousand ancient cities.

A messenger of sacred truths.

New form taken, veiled in silken moonlight. 

Bare feet travel nostalgic moments in time-washed cobblestone.

Duty bound to Heaven’s stars.

Screams not heard through tight clenched lips.

She prays, a hand to heaven a hand to heart.

Radiant glory, a sunken treasure beyond the shores of watery dreams.

On pearly beaches she waits for the tide of luminescent hope.

Crystallized tears eclipse kaleidoscope irises, riddled with fractured passion.

Through birth of morning she stands on shaky knees, in a crown of golden sunlight.

This tutorial will include an inspirational supplement, and full instructions for the Sunset Opal Heart, Plutonic Love Heart and Moonlight Waltz heart. Hopefully, I’ll have it wrapped up in a couple of weeks. Later this week, I’ll post more details and the glass required for each design so that some of you can go ahead and purchase the needed supplies.

Sunset Opal Heart

Plutonic Love Heart

Moonlight Waltz Heart

 Talk to you soon!!

Lately I’ve been stuck in my own world of deep thought. . .The tones in my written communication have been a little deep and a bit strange. . Odd expressions written in watery emotional tones have been showing up in every product listing and email I’ve exchanged since mid January. It all started just prior to my last post and since then, I’ve been living in the depths of my mind, my subconscious exposed and raw. As a result, I’ve felt the need to hide from the masses. I’ve dodged Facebook, forums and in some cases, phone calls and visits. My world has been at a basic stand still, even though the clock continued to progress. 

Given that I’ve received several emails of concern, I thought I might need to address this outwardly. I am okay. I’m not depressed, or sad. I’m just in a very deeeeeeeeep thought process that I am trying to come out of.  I’ve been here before and each time I emerge, things are much clearer and I’m far more optimistic and cheerful. It’s a process for me. . .A self imposed purging of the ugly trash that collects over a long period of being on psychological auto pilot. Because I’m such an isolationist, I disappear from the outward scenes for sometimes months at a time. It’s good to be an artist because “eccentricity” is sometimes expected and easily forgiven. I’ll try not to abuse the cliche too much. 

It’s March, so there’s hope for all of us. I know some of you are sick of this cold and miserable winter weather. I’m looking forward to spring. Longer days, shorter nights and lots more opportunity stretch my legs instead of my brain.

That’s all for now. Hope you all have a great finish to your week.