Sunday Evening Art Gallery (on Monday) — Jamie Moreno

How do select a truly unique jeweler/artist to showcase? There are as many jewelry designs as there are stars in the sky.

Jamie Moreno was born in 1943  in Madrid, Spain.

Not only is he a renowned jeweler, but a regal horse breeder of the Pure Spanish Race, “El Caballo de Pura Raza Espanola.” Designer of signature jewelry, Moreno has created numerous jewels, many of them published in International and Contemporary Jewelry Yearbooks and in different specialized journals.

Moreno displays his jewelry in various Spanish jeweler shops in Madrid, Marbella, Asturias and Castellón,  and in other  art galleries in Madrid.

In order to execute pieces of high jewelry he uses gold, silver, gems and semiprecious stones acquired in the most prestigious international gem fairs globally.His jewelry is modern, yet holds the tradition of centuries of fine jewelry craftmanship in Spain.

With his stunning ideas and beautiful, colorful exhibition of color in his pieces this designer honors some of his Spanish heritage.

More of Jamie Moreno‘s unique and signature jewelry can be found at www.jaimemoreno.com.

Garage-Envy

gold-chrome-wrapped-bugatti-veyron-owned-by-flo-rida-looks-grotesque-61670_1I am suffering from a bout of garage-envy these days.

I know it’s not the most controversial or personal subject to stress about, but for me it’s a malady that can never really be cured.

I don’t think I’ve had a garage in 40 years. First it was growing up at home, then an apartment, a townhouse, then a bungalow, then a B&B, then a bottom flat rental, then my current house. Unfortunately, none of of these humble abodes bode a garage for me and my flashy vehicle.

We have a pole barn/garage these days, but there’s no way to squeeze my fancy 2005 black Buick Sable in there — not with the boats, decoys, snow plow blade, workbench, mowers, toys, yard rickrack, spare tires, boat parts, camper, trailers, and other assorted oddities my husband cannot live without.

I know living “in the country” (as so many people like to refer to a mile out of town) has its perks, but often garages aren’t one of them. When we had our house built, there was barely money to build the house, no less an attached garage. We needed a pole barn (which is almost the size of the house) to house country paraphernalia, but the paraphernalia soon turned to collections and old stock and a holding spot for my son’s paraphernalia until he moves in a month.

Most of the time I don’t mind going straight out the door and a few steps over to my car to go to work. But come winter, those few steps become starting the car, scraping the windows, wiping the foot of snow off the hood, losing my shoe in the drift, etc. I envy those who have remote start, heated seats, Sirus music — anything and everything I don’t have.

Come spring I kinda get over the freezing fact, but move onto the real garage-envy stage. Shiny, clean cars laugh at my dirt splattered, mud puddly fancy 2005 beast. It’s like they’re saying, “Ha! I slept inside last night! Where did YOU sleep?” I then begin to feel more like a hillbilly and less of a contributing member of the work force who happens to drive an antique car.

I know you say, “Go and build a garage!” At this point in my life, I’d rather spend a couple of thousand dollars elsewhere. Like going to Ireland or Italy or buying a hot tub or something. Or saving for that fantasy world called retirement.

And besides — with my luck, that cute little 2-car garage next to my house would fill up with outdoor paraphernalia faster than you can say Jack Rabbit. Who will also have no place to live.

Too many duck decoys in the way.