The Colors of Winter

Today is the Winter Solstice.

​Winter is desolate and dark and cold.  Grey.  Quiet.

In the far northern hemisphere, where my family hails from, the days are short and glancing.  The harsh light and landscape gets dimmer and the light slower to rise and then, we celebrate.

​In Scandinavia, this is the celebration of light.  When the winter solstice comes it is the darkest day of the year - the shortest day and the longest night - and we can begin to watch the days grow longer, the light glow brighter.  

​The colors of summer wouldn't be what  they are  without this rest.  And so we celebrate and sing.

Sankta Lucia

Sankta Lucia by Elsa Beskow

We have a holiday in Sweden, Denmark, Norway and Finland that marks this cycle of the earth around the sun and it is also the beginning of the Christmas season - always celebrated on December 13th.  

The holiday is in honor of Sankta Lucia (or Saint Lucy).  It's a feast.  A celebration of light. And the beginning of the 12 days of Christmas.

The solstice this year actually occurred on December 23rd, 2015.  At one time, under the old Julian calendar, the feast of Saint Lucy fell on the winter solstice but calendar reforms have caused the celebration to occur now on December 13th.  

The feast commemorates Saint Lucy, from Syracuse Sicily - who was born in 283 AD.  Legend says, she desperately wanted to help the poor, and brought food and help to Christians hiding in the deep catacombs.  Her hair was wrapped with a wreath holding candles so that she could find her way and have arms free to carry her offerings.

Songs and Poetry

​The celebration now represents so much aside from the historic religious connection.  

I remember it as a small child as a magical and mysterious time.  All the children would participate in a peaceful and beautiful procession dressed in long white robes each carrying a candle.  

Sankta Lucia was represented by the oldest girl who wore a red sash and a wreath of candles in her hair.  Elsa Beskow is one of my favorite authors and illustrators.  Her sketch above gives the sense of the tradition.

And, the lovely song that we sing is so beautiful - both the haunting melody and the poetic lyrics:

Swedish

​​Natten går tunga fjät
rund gård och stuva;
kring jord, som sol förlät,
skuggorna ruva.
Då i vårt mörka hus,
stiger med tända ljus,
Sankta Lucia, Sankta Lucia.

Natten går stor och stum
nu hörs dess vingar
i alla tysta rum
sus som av vingar.
Se, på vår tröskel står
vitklädd med ljus i hår
Sankta Lucia, Sankta Lucia.

Mörkret ska flykta snart
ur jordens dalar
så hon ett underbart
ord till oss talar.
Dagen ska åter ny
stiga ur rosig sky
Sankta Lucia, Sankta Lucia

English

​​Night walks with a heavy step
Round yard and hearth,
As the sun departs from earth,
Shadows are brooding.
There in our dark house,
Walking with lit candles,
Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia!

Night walks grand, yet silent,
Now hear its gentle wings,
In every room so hushed,
Whispering like wings.
Look, at our threshold stands,
White-clad with light in her hair,
Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia!

Darkness shall take flight soon,
From earth's valleys.
So she speaks 
Wonderful words to us:
A new day will rise again
From the rosy sky…
Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia

Meditation with Molten Glass

I spend several hours a week working with molten glass in a flame.  "Lampworking".  There is a connection with light and warmth that is kind of ... obvious. 

​When I work my glass in the flame, I have come to enjoy the process of exploring a palette of colors and patterns - using a fairly limited selection of glass rods to build my pieces.  It's an alluring thing to create combinations of color and material that react together in so many unexpected ways.  I will choose a limited palette and then work with it for a few weeks at a time - playing and testing and creating.  

After working the glass in the flame for sometimes close to an hour, the steel mandrel with the burning hot bead is tucked into a kiln at something like 970 degrees Fahrenheit to slowly anneal the glass to room temperature over many hours.  It's kind of exciting to retrieve your work.  Sometimes (quite often honestly) the finished glass comes out of the kiln later and it's -- not what you had imagined or hoped.  And other times, it's so much better.  

While the torch is lit,   I feel calm and mesmerized as I work the glass in the flame - the progression of rods to molten glass to  shapes and patterns -  requiring focus and control, it is almost a meditation.

"Tysta" Glass-Pendant

"Jorden" Glass-Pendant

The Winter Solstice Glass Collection

explore the collection >>

​Earlier this fall, I was looking forward to this cooler season (since I live in the desert, rather desperately) and started working with colors that came to mind - cool, and fresh whites and creams with flecks of color.  Lots of white, bits of red, and flecks of sparkle like the candles.  

The resulting pieces brought to mind those fond memories of this celebration of light, and the winter landscape and season.    And that song.

So, when I sat down to design and fabricate the necklaces, I knew that we should be calling this collection the Winter Solstice Glass Collection.  

​And, just because it's fun and fitting, I chose to name the pieces in the collection after the lyrics in the lovely Sankta Lucia song.  Why not? 

Happy Solstice and let there be light!  See you on the other side… 

~Miriam