Tuesday, January 20, 2015

In the Studio:

I was happy to have the opportunity to work in my studio last week. I drilled and played with some sea stones, sea glass and sterling silver. Here are a few new pieces I will be listing in my shop this week. You can find me on Etsy: Denise Dion Designs. 

Monday, January 19, 2015

Sunday, January 18, 2015

Thursday, January 15, 2015

In a Word:


O Winter! frozen pulse and heart of fire,
What loss is theirs who from thy kingdom turn
Dismayed, and think thy snow a sculptured urn
Of death! Far sooner in midsummer tire
The streams than under ice. June could not hire
Her roses to forego the strength they learn
In sleeping on thy breast. No fires can burn
The bridges thou dost lay where men desire
In vain to build.
O Heart, when Love's sun goes
To northward, and the sounds of singing cease,
Keep warm by inner fires, and rest in peace.
Sleep on content, as sleeps the patient rose.
Walk boldly on the white untrodden snows,
The winter is the winter's own release.

- Helen Hunt Jackson

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

In the Studio:

Vive la France! I played in the studio yesterday and created a few new 'Simply French' designs. Just in time for Valentines Day. You can find me on Etsy in the shop Denise Dion Designs.

Friday, December 26, 2014

Joyeux Noel to me!

My thoughtful sons & daughter in law created this as a photo board to plot our upcoming trip to Paris in May. Evan Michael hand-stitched a map of Paris complete with the 20 arrondissements so we can plot our adventures. Can't wait!! Love my family and yes, I cried when they gave it to me. #feelingloved #bestChristmasgiftever

Have you been to Paris? Please feel free to share your favorite spots to visit, including cafes in the comments section.

Thursday, December 25, 2014

Merry Christmas from our house to yours. May peace, joy and love live in your heart all year long.

Thursday, December 18, 2014

To Winter by William Blake

O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors:
The north is thine; there hast thou built thy dark
Deep-founded habitation. Shake not thy roofs
Nor bend thy pillars with thine iron car.

He hears me not, but o’er the yawning deep
Rides heavy; his storms are unchain’d, sheathed
In ribbed steel; I dare not lift mine eyes;
For he hath rear’d his scepter o’er the world.

Lo! now the direful monster, whose skin clings
To his strong bones, strides o’er the groaning rocks:
He withers all in silence, and in his hand
Unclothes the earth, and freezes up frail life.

He takes his seat upon the cliffs, the mariner
Cries in vain. Poor little wretch! that deal’st
With storms, till heaven smiles, and the monster
Is driven yelling to his caves beneath Mount Hecla.