Thursday, November 04, 2010

Poe's Raven

The silence on the blog has been deafening this week, no? I was supposed to have this entry ready in time for Halloween, but what with the vacation and the kid getting sick on vacation and the rush to get caught up after I got back, well...that's the way it goes.

Anyway, in between bouts of taking the kid's temperature and pouring cough medicine down his throat in the hotel room, I managed to create one necklace. Never mind that I took the supplies and idea lists to create at least four pieces...I got ONE done LOL!

This necklace had a few sources of inspiration. First, of course, was the amazing patinated raven pendant from Miss Fickle Media. As soon as I saw it, I knew it was perfect for a design for this time of year. Also, it reminded me of one of my very favorite poems, "The Raven" by Edgar Allen Poe, which became another source of inspiration. The poem is set in December which caused me to look at a cool, frosty color palette with hints of darkness.

Another source of inspiration was a period film I watched recently in which one of the characters wore a deep cranberry-colored dress all accented with sparkling jet beading. I wanted to pull the cranberry and black colors into the design.

Black patinated links, chain and clasp (also from Miss FM) were in keeping with all of these elements and also added a vintage feel. I threw in a few lighter hits of pink for contrast.

So, turn the lights down low and pretend it's still Halloween and enjoy my "Poe's Raven" necklace.!

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door —
Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; — vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Lenore —
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore —
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door —
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; —
This it is, and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you"— here I opened wide the door; —
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!" —
Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore —
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; —
'Tis the wind and nothing more."

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door —
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door —
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore —
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning— little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door —
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered— not a feather then he fluttered —
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "other friends have flown before —
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore —
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never — nevermore'."

But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore —
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee — by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite — respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! — prophet still, if bird or devil! —
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted —
On this home by horror haunted— tell me truly, I implore —
Is there — is there balm in Gilead? — tell me — tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil — prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us — by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked, upstarting —
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!— quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted — nevermore!

Accent beads in this necklace are carved black onyx, pink chalcedony rondelles, frosted white vintage glass, deep rose shell disks, frosted pink glass, cranberry and black Czech glass disks and white jumbo Swarovski pearls.

I linked everything together with copper chain and patinated copper wire in 20 and 22 gauge (depending on the size of the holes in certain beads).

Hope you enjoyed.



EB Bead and Metal Works said...

OMG! I love it! The necklace is just perfect and the poem with the pictures was awesome! Thanks so much for sharing. said...

Stunning, this is so much better then what I originally in mind!
I love it!

kelleysbeads said...

Ditto to what Beth said :) Well done!

lunedreams said...

That is GORGEOUS!! I love those cranberry coin beads!!! Just a bit of gentle goth! And the dark chain and the raven are perfect with it. And the whole poem. (Sorry, I didn't have the patience to read it. Am I a philistine?)

Kristen said...

Ok Shelby and I are nursing the smashed faces as we tried to jump through the computer to snag this gorgeousness! OMG is all we can now say!


TesoriTrovati said...

Totally to die for!

Thank you for sharing that. You know what I feel about crows... raven is a nicer name, don't you think? I really love the color palette and the mix of textures. And you cannot go wrong with Shannon's anything!
Enjoy the day!
P.S. I hope the kid is feeling better.

TesoriTrovati said...

Oh, and I was going to say that it should not be about quantity when you do quality this well.

Well done!

Pretty Things said...

That's beautiful, and I love Edgar Allen Poe! I went to the University of Virginia, where he went to school, and they have his room glassed in, so you can see it, and they have a stuffed raven in it!

Michelle said...

Lovely necklace! I've forgotten how much I liked that poem!
Hope the little man is feeling better....and welcome back.
Bead Happy!