What's In A Name?

I love getting gifts. I love to give them even more, but that isn’t the point of this post.

At the top of my list of Things I’d Like to Receive is a priceless gift that everyone I speak to can give me. It’s so simple, you may not believe it. Better yet? It doesn’t cost you a dime!

I’d really just like everyone to call me by name: Linda Lee.

You see, for the first half of my life, I was called by my first name—Linda.

It’s a fine name. I have a friend named Linda. I’ve known many people named Linda.

The thing is... I've never really liked it for me. I never felt it suited me.

Growing up, I often considered changing my name altogether. I always wanted my name to be Elizabeth. I would use the name Elizabeth anytime I wrote a novel. (Yes, I wrote novels in elementary school. One of them even got up to 11 or 12 chapters before I abandoned it.) Even in some of my writings today, I often revert to the name Elizabeth, whether or not I'm in the story. At this point it's just habit.

But back to my first name: Linda. When I left home for college, I considered adding my middle name, Lee.

Over time, I integrated the use of my first and middle name, Linda Lee, into my life—first, through work, then through friends, then through acquaintances, etc.

Finally, I told my family that I'd started using my middle name.

Oddly enough, my sister had also started using her full name. Her name is Wendilyn. Actually, it's Jill Wendilyn, following a naming pattern for the women in my family. She's always gone by Wendy... but within the past several years she's started using her full name, Wendilyn.

I wonder if we both felt like we grew into our names.

Now, of course, I go by Linda Lee exclusively—except for a few errant doctor’s offices and some members of my family, on whom I’ve given up the prospect of ever being called by the name I’d like to hear. (Especially regarding family—it’s about picking your battles, and some battles aren’t worth fighting, ya know?)

I feel that Linda Lee suits me perfectly. Many people shorten it to “LL”, and I've also been called "Double L" Or "Luhluh" or other endearing shortenings of my name.

I think that going by Linda Lee serves several purposes.

Not only does it speak to me tonally, and "fit" who I am, but it fits who I've become as a woman, and who I will be, throughout the years of my hopefully long and healthy life.

Linda Lee signifies the changes I've already worked so hard to make, and the development I have yet to traverse.

(For example, my name gives me permission to be playful and light-hearted, which is a personality trait that’s natural to me, and yet—it’s one I’m working on developing. I’ve kept my inner Entertainer under wraps for far too long, and now she’s coming out to have some fun! See that little girl? That's me... she lives inside me every day, but now she likes to come out to play relatively often.)

I am proud of my name.

Now, most conversations with someone new start off with me introducing myself, and correcting the other person when they call me Linda. I don’t mind, but I do wish people wouldn’t assume that because Linda is a common name, that the “Lee” part doesn’t matter and can be left by the wayside.

Oddly enough (to me), many folks assume that Lee is my last name.

And about 90% of those folks assume I’m Chinese! Until they see me in person, that is. And then—well, there’s absolutely no way anyone could possibly mistake this pasty-white-freckled-green-eyed-blond-haired-big-boned-in-addition-to-overweight-British/Irish chick as Chinese.

Still more people assume that after they call me Linda Lee a few times, they can call me Linda and that’s okay.

It’s not okay, y’all.

That’s like… meeting someone named Robert and assuming he goes by Bob.

Or Richard is Dick.

Or Samantha is Sam.

Or Mary Jane is Mary, or Jane.

(This horse is dead, and yet I’m still beating him…)

I’ve started doing various things to help people understand that I really, truly, do go by Linda Lee. On Facebook and a few other places, I’ve started typing my name as one word: Lindalee. Sometimes it’s LindaLee, sometimes it’s lindalee… in reality, it’s Linda Lee, but that so often trips people up, so I figured writing it as one word offers clarity.

My name is more than just a moniker. It’s a significant part of the identity I present to the world.

So, I ask you—what's in a name?

Do you like your name?
Have you ever considered changing your name?
Any other thoughts you'd like to share?

Tip Thursday: Coloring Outside The Lines...

One thing I've noticed, time and time again, when I'm at a craft show or otherwise when I'm selling my jewelry to people, is that most folks don't know what colors can pair together. If someone buys a colorful necklace from me, they often ask what they can wear it with. I then rattle off a bunch of options and they walk away satisfied.

That got me to thinking, though. Not everyone is so adept with pairing color. I'm an artist, so it's to be expected that I'm good at pairing colors.

And since I'm not a particularly selfish person (well, not about this, at least!), I thought maybe I could help others by offering some tips, complete with a photo.

What do you think?

Yeah?

Ok. Here we go.

First tip: Today I'm wearing a green shirt that has shades of turquoise to it... and my necklace is sunstone, which is a gorgeous stone with shades of dark orange, with turquoise accent beads. So... try dark orange with turquoise green. It's an awesome combination!

Sunstone's metaphysical properties: The sunstone gem is a leadership stone, and brings leadership qualities to its wearer. It aids in dispelling fears and phobias and also decreases stress and lifts depression. Sunstone promotes grounding and protection. Sunstone gems also warms the heart and allows the person to get in touch with their life force.

Turquoise's metaphysical properties: Turquoise is porous, so contact with liquids, oils or even perspiration should be avoided. Turquoise is considered a good general healer for all illnesses and excellent conductor. Induces wisdom and understanding, enhances trust and kindness. Brings the qualities of mental and spiritual clarity.

So...

Is this helpful? Let me know what you think!

Let's talk about earrings...

Up until about a year ago, I never saw much merit in earrings. I always liked wearing them, and I thought they could add something to an outfit, but they just weren’t fun to make.

(I know, right? A jewelry designer who doesn't didn't like to make earrings? What's UP with that?)

So, I made them mostly to match bracelets or necklaces so that people could buy sets instead of single pieces of jewelry.

People like sets.

I like sets!

But for some reason… earrings just weren’t fun to design.

Until now.

About a year ago, I ran out of ear wires. Instead of doing what I always did, and ordering more… I decided to start making my own. I mean, I work with all this wire all the time, so why not make my own dang ear wires, right?

Little did I know this would open up the world of earrings for me. That’s all it took!

I felt something release in me, and I was able to make earrings just for the sake of making earrings.

I now have lots of earrings that aren’t made specifically to match any of my other pieces of jewelry. Now, a lot of them DO go with necklaces or bracelets I have, but a lot of them don’t.

And I like that!

I never realized that earrings could be so fun to make, and so gratifying to look at.

The only down side is the time. I used to whip out earrings by the dozens… but now sometimes I spend 45 minutes or so making one pair, to get the wire “just right” so the pair is relatively even. What used to take me 10 minutes now takes 45? Wait, I thought I was trying to become more efficient, not less?

Between the hammering, measuring, filing, bending, etc… yes—it does take longer. But it’s so worth it! I can now make earrings that speak to who I am as an artist, instead of earrings that happen to match whatever necklace I’ve made them to go with.

It’s a huge shift in me… in more ways than one. I now find myself craving making earrings, seeing what else I can do with the ear wire, seeing how else I can push my envelope on design.

Sometimes, all you need is a different perspective on life. Something to flip a switch inside of you so you see the situation differently and perceive your reality in a new light.

Sometimes, it's as simple as bending your own ear wire...

Bright Blue Uncomplicated Weather

It’s so hard, on a beautiful day like this, not to wish my desk were outside. I’d like to bathe in this glorious sunshine, with the trees swaying back and forth to show off their lovely array of colors and rustling just enough to push my mind into a vortex of days on Alumni Lawn, skipping classes, watching strangers and friends play Frisbee, lounge on blankets, read books, or nap.

I long for those days sometimes. In many ways, life was simpler. I didn’t have so many responsibilities. I didn’t have so many things to worry about. I didn’t have so many obligations pulling me in so many directions. I didn’t have to work so hard to stay in shape. I didn’t have to worry so much about what I ate or shouldn’t eat or did eat.

And yet, if my soul could have been as happy and healthy as I feel now… I’d never have wanted to leave that time. I might have become the Joey Greene of the mid-90s.

Joey Greene was a 7^th year student when I was a freshman. He’d hemmed and hawed so damn long that people came to see him as an institution on campus. He was the first person to get to know as many freshmen as possible, and he made it his personal mission to know as many undergrads as possible. He showed us around campus. He avoided questions about why he’d been there so long. He loved school that much, and his parents indulged his avoidance of the ominous real world.

I get what he was going through, though. Even when I did graduate, I wasn’t ready for the real world. I put it off as long as I could, and even longer.

I think the reality is… I suddenly realized how great it could be to be a kid, and I didn’t want to grow up.

I look back on those days with deep fondness and appreciation. I have precious memories of blissful moments, and over time, those far outshine the darkness—which is good, because in those days it was vast and overwhelmingly deep.

But on days like today, I think of little else but leaning against a fat-trunked Magnolia tree, daydreaming about whatever boy I had a crush on at the moment, pretending to read whatever text I was supposed to have already read.

And I realized something: college taught me the value of living in the moment.

A priceless gift, indeed…

Change Your World

(Updated Feb. 2013)

Let me ask you something, if you’ll indulge me.

Do you think you can change the world?

No, really! I’m serious.

I’ve been wanting to really write about Pathways for a long time now, but it seems anytime I talk about something that can truly change lives for the better… change the world for the better—no one really believes me, or else, no one wants to listen, because change is scary.

Too scary.

I’ve decided I’m going to write this anyway, and if you believe me, then great. If not, then at the very least, perhaps I’ve given you something to think about.

What exactly do you DO in Pathways?

That’s the question I hear most often. Well, here are the basics: you work individually, with a partner, with a small group, and within the whole class, intermittently.

Here’s a wee bit more information…

• You take a hard look at what’s holding you back in your world and how it happened.
• You learn to take accountability for your reactions to what has happened to you, as well as the bad habits you put in place that perhaps at one time protected you, but are now holding you back.
• Through a pretty intense process, you have the opportunity to let go of a lot of baggage that’s holding you back from living the life you want.
• You learn to identify negative habits that you once created as coping mechanisms. After identifying those habits, you learn how to replace them with positive habits.
• You put all the tools you’ve learned into practice in the “real world”, including creating a plan for your life.

How long does it take?
The training takes place across a four month span. The first three training sessions are pretty close together. Here’s an example schedule with the name of the training first, followed by the date:

• The Weekend – Jan. 8-10 (Fri-Sun)
• The Walk – Jan. 20-24 (Wed-Sun)
• P1 – Feb. 5-7 (Fri-Sun)
• P2 – Mar. 5-7 (Fri-Sun)
• P3 – Apr. 9-11 (Fri-Sun)

It’s an investment that works out to about $10 an hour. And now that the price of the first training (The Weekend) has been reduced to $199, it’s an absolute steal.

My journey

For most of my life, I struggled with such intense depression. It turned me into a needy person. I kind of wore out the people who loved me, because I constantly needed to know that they accepted me. I had high anxiety and lots of anger. I was shy and withdrawn.

I’d tried therapy, I’d read tons of self-help books and psychology books, and I’d tried support groups.

Nothing worked because all of the changes felt too superficial. Nothing felt like it went deep enough to really “stick,” so to speak.

I was looking for something truly different.

I entered the Pathways training. At first, I really knew nothing about it. All I knew was, I’d seen my boss go through it and make a huge change in the way he behaved. He was nicer. He was more responsible. He was more focused. He was happier. He was peaceful. He finally married his best friend—a woman he had loved for 19 years, but he’d kept her at arm’s length because of fear.

Seeing these major changes in my boss, I was not only intrigued, I was downright hungry.

In August 2004, I began my journey to change my world.

The training was hard. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done for myself, outside of graduating from college. But, it’s also the most meaningful thing I’ve ever done for myself. Today I am a healthy, strong woman from the inside out. My emotional intelligence and maturity are considerably higher than it ever could have been, had I not had the blessing of going through this training.

The biggest, most major thing I dealt with in the first part of the training was my mom, and all the issues I had with her. She was so toxic to me in so many ways… and at one point, I had very seriously considered cutting her out of my life. I couldn’t do it, though, because I knew that would mean cutting my dad out, too, and that was out of the question.

I am even more thankful for my Pathways journey now, because of the healing that took place between my mom and me.

She passed away in November 2012. I am so thankful that we didn’t really leave anything on the table—no unresolved issues or anger. I am so grateful for that—more grateful than words can ever say.

I owe that to Pathways.

Pathways was the beginning for me. It was the start of a new way of life, a new attitude. I felt joy for the first time, ever. Since going through the training, I’ve grown exponentially. I learned how to accept myself for who I am, and in doing so, I’ve taught people (including my mom) a better way to treat me.

I am so far removed from the sad, angry shell of a woman I was back in 2004. Thank God!

I’ve continued my journey with Pathways as a training assistant or TA, where I have the opportunity to help others on their journey. In turn, I continue my own growth, and let me tell you—it’s a process that continues to give and give, over and over again.

Now? Now I am confident, laid-back, and happy.

I have deeper, more intimate, and more meaningful relationships than I ever thought possible.

I'm more productive at work, too. I'm confident yet humble, and I've learned to accept criticism without taking it personally.

I'm proud of where I am. I recognize that I'm a work in progress, but instead of dreading the process of growth, I actually enjoy it!

In a nutshell, I never could have gotten where I am today without Pathways.

I’m passionate about this organization because I’ve seen the results, over and over again. It worked for me, and through volunteering and helping other trainees change, I’ve seen it work for hundreds.

In truth, Pathways has been around for nearly 30 years, and it’s been the catalyst for literally thousands of people to change their lives. Thousands!

It’s not an end-all be-all solution for everyone. While my heart longs for everyone in my world to go through the training, I recognize that it isn’t right for every person. That’s why there are so many options out there, after all.

Our society is in so much pain, collectively… hard-working folks are losing jobs, committed relationships are falling apart, kids are bearing the brunt of poor decisions made by their parents, and individuals are experiencing more pain and hardship than ever.

Pathways is one way. It’s one way to heal—to face fears and let go of pain that’s held you down for many years. It’s one way to gain awareness of how you’re “getting in your own way” and learning what else is in your way that’s keeping you from living the life you want to live—a life by design, rather than by default.

If you’re interested… Click here to register, or click here to donate.

What happens to jewelry after it leaves my hands?

What happens after a piece of jewelry leaves my hands and ends up in the hands of the recipient? I often wonder exactly this!

Whether it’s someone who purchased the jewelry for themselves, or someone who I gave the jewelry to, or someone who bought the jewelry as a gift for someone else, I always hope the jewelry is enjoyed and treasured. I’m no fool, though. In fact, I’m not afraid to admit that I have full knowledge that my jewelry doesn’t always stay the way I intended it.

I even have a couple of examples. I was in a show last year where I showcased some jewelry designed with beads I’d made. One woman kept eyeing a necklace, stating openly that she didn’t like the way I’d finished it (with a silk ribbon), but that she loved the focal bead so much that she might buy it anyway, and do something else with it.

While part of me wanted to impulsively grab the necklace right out of her hands and stash it in my pocket, another part of me thought, “Well, why not?”

And you know what? She did buy the necklace. I saw the look of absolute glee on her face when she gazed at that bead that I had made. How could I refuse that sale? She got something out of it. It made her happy.

And I’m sure she ripped the necklace apart as soon as she got home and re-did it however she wanted to.

I once put together a necklace made with leather and raku beads (not just beads that had been painted with raku glaze, but beads that had been fired using the raku method), as a gift for a friend. I took care to consider her favorite style and colors. I was still pretty new to making jewelry at this point, and I was really proud of the finished product. It was one of the best things I’d made at that time.

Several months after I’d given the set to my friend, I saw the exact beads I’d used in a completely different necklace on her website.

The necklace was for sale.

At first I was upset and my feelings were really hurt. I mean, how could she? This was a gift I’d crafted especially for her.

And then? I got over it.

Once I gave her the gift, it was out of my control. It was her gift to do with as she pleased. In the grand scheme of things, she could have turned around and sold the necklace as her own. She could have tossed it in a drawer and never looked at it again. She could have re-gifted it. She may have loved it but never saw herself wearing it. I have no clue, and the reality is—it doesn’t matter. What matters is that I had the thought to give her the gift.

I think this works for any form of art.

What about a visual artist who sells paintings? She would expect you to frame her painting, but what if it’s more important to you have that you have that piece of art… not so much that it’s in a nice frame? So, it sits on the mantel unframed, so at least you can look at it while other things bump their way up the priority list and you never quite get around to framing the thing.

Do you think that, if the artist knew, she’d refuse sell me another of her paintings?

Well, I can’t speak for all visual artists, but we have four paintings in total from that artist… and only one of them is framed—with a store-bought frame, no less. We fully intend to have the other three framed, at some point. (What can I say? It’s been a rough few years financially.)

Beethoven wrote the famous 5^th symphony. Most people only know and love the first movement. But what if the last movement is my favorite, and often the only one I ever listen to from that symphony?

If Beethoven were alive, do you think he’d really give a shit?

Of course not! He’d be thrilled that I found something in his music that touched my soul. It moved me in some way.

Or, perhaps a more relevant example—if a DJ cuts in a few samples of Beethoven’s 5^th, thereby modifying his composition and indeed turning it into something completely new and different, is that a bad thing? Is it harmful? My take—it’s actually a good thing. It exposes new listeners to a tidbid of classical music, and they may inquire about the original piece. It modernizes something that many would automatically recognize, and it gives the new artist immediate credibility (which admittedly isn’t necessarily a good thing).

The point is, no matter what, as an artist you cannot have control over what happens to a piece of your art once it leaves your hands. It may be altered, destroyed, broken, painted over, re-sold, etc… and in cases where the action is done out of disrespect, perhaps it’s better that the artist doesn’t know.

I, for one, would stop creating altogether if I was ultimately so concerned about *how* my art was used by the recipient.

Life teaches us that we’re supposed to look for approval and care what others think. But what I’m learning is that what others think of me is none of my business, and in fact, it can be a serious hindrance if I get too wrapped around the axle about it.

Sure, I could have refused to sell that necklace to the woman who wanted to rip it apart—and I’ve seen that happen, too… but when I saw how much she loved the bead, it just didn’t matter anymore.

The point is… once you release your art out into the world, you truly have to let go. That’s part of the beauty of creating.

Honestly, I’d rather that my customers were upfront about wanting a piece altered in some way, so that I could do it for them. It’s something I genuinely try not to take personally. I once sold a necklace to a woman who didn’t like that it was two strands. She only wanted the one strand. I happily snipped off the second strand, and we both got what we wanted—I gained a new customer, I made a sale, and she walked away with a beautiful carnelian necklace.

At that same show last year, a woman showed me a two-strand necklace that she loved. She didn’t want the main strand that actually had the focal on it, she only wanted the secondary accent strand.

Now the interesting thing is, I’d been contemplating making that necklace into a single-strand necklace anyway, so not only did it not bother me that she wanted the second strand… it was actually just what I needed to make the change.

And that’s really what it’s about, isn’t it? Change. Acceptance and rejection. Fear of being “not good enough”.

Well, you know… I say leave all that baggage in the dirt, where it belongs.

There are necklaces I’ve had in my inventory for years, and it feels like something just isn’t quite right with them… I’ll take them out of my display inventory and put them in a bag, waiting for inspiration to redo the necklace. Yes. This happens. I have a pretty full bag of necklaces I’d like to redo, and bracelets I’d like to convert to necklaces, and other various unfinished (un-started, really) projects.

And if a customer wants something altered before buying it… I’m all too happy to do it. I want my customers to be happy with their purchases. I want them to think of me as someone who’s not afraid to push myself and make myself better… I’m only one woman—sometimes I get sick of looking at my own stuff, and if I get a fresh eye on it and someone says “Hey, I think X-Y-Z could hang this way instead of that way”, then once in a while, I may not only learn something new, but I can expand my horizons.

And as you might guess by now, I’m all for that.

More on Murano.

There are few times when I feel an instant emotional connection to something—a material item… a thing.

I had one of those moments when I returned from Murano, Italy.

The trip positively changed my life. As I've mentioned before, it made me feel absolutely connected to creativity again, for the first time in years. I suddenly felt more in touch with who I am. I felt open. I knew who I was again, at the core of my being, and I was unafraid to let everyone see. I felt at home on a torch, wielding molten blobs of glass, when I’d only sat at a torch for a few short hours prior.

I’ve had similar connections before, no doubt. I’ve been a musician all my life—a pianist, primarily, and all of my emotional connection with music fed my ability to communicate through ivory keys and brass pedals.

I lost that ability sometime in college, when the idea of being graded for my emotional outlet caused me to burn out and walk away from playing.

Ever since those days, I have wandered rather aimlessly through a sea of various creative endeavors—writing poetry or essays, and designing jewelry to name a couple—but most of those endeavors have left me feeling somewhat empty or uninspired at one point or another. The ultimate connection between the core of my being and a tangible means of expression was lost upon me.

I lived in Boston for a couple of years, and I once set foot into a piano store with a Bosendorfer front and center. It was the first time I’d ever seen one, let alone been encouraged to touch it. If you’re unfamiliar with them—it’s basically the Ferrari of pianos.

When I saw that Bosendorfer—my heart swelled in my chest and I immediately froze with remembrance of my talent and ability that I’d so willingly tossed away. I couldn’t even touch the Bosendorfer. Instead, I settled upon an electric piano upstairs that had headphones already attached—so my noodling wouldn’t have to be heard by anyone or anything but my aching heart.

I can quickly attach to a piano on a deeply emotional level. But that’s rare with other things.

Which is why I was so stricken when I returned from Italy. I realized that the emotional connection I have to expression has finally changed forms. I no longer craved moments alone to play my homely upright in a rare moment of silent desperation. Oh, no.

I craved the torch, the focused fire, the molten glass oozing its way into round around a mandrel. I craved the folding of color upon color, the swirling of patterns and the plunging of dots and the sparkle of dichroic and gold and silver and palladium. I suddenly wanted to pour my emotions out in the form of glass beads.

So, imagine my surprise when I realize my own connection to glass, and what glass can mean to me.

And then, I saw the bead.

This bead, Murano Magic, made by Sarah Hornik—an homage to a glass sculpture on Murano island.

I felt the same way I felt when I saw that Bosendorfer for the first time in my life. My heart swelled in my chest, and I could feel the edges of my eyes crowding with liquid. I had to have that bead—for what it represents, for the punctuation of what I experienced, for the underlining and exclaiming of all that is Murano, Italy. I had to have that bead.

The timing was pretty terrible—my husband was unemployed, and I didn’t have any work to speak of, and of course—while in Italy, I’d spent a little too much money.

But I had to have that bead.

“It’s silly,” I thought. “It’s a hunk of glass,” I justified.

No good—I had to put a bid on it. Because I had to have that bead.

I lost the auction, but luckily I was able to acquire the bead some months later through a private sale. Lucky me!

It is, without question, a beautiful piece of art.

But it’s more than that. It represents our time in Murano. It expresses something I have, thus far, been unreasonably unable to articulate. It represents a shift in me—a willingness to rekindle my innermost ability of emotional expression. It’s a tangible totem marking my re-awakening.

Murano Magic, indeed.

Testimonials

I understand that looking at jewelry online and deciding to make that leap of purchasing requires a certain level of trust. Trust in me to create a piece that's going to hold up over time, trust that the images represent what you're purchasing, trust that once you submit payment I will deliver, etc.

I thought it only fair to ask my customers for testimonials. I hope you find this information helpful!

"I own four necklaces made by Linda Lee and love every one of them! I have a difficult time deciding which necklace to wear, but I'm always wearing one! I love my necklaces so much I special ordered a bracelet for my mother. It's the most amazing piece of jewelry and everyone in my family loves it." --Jodi in TX

"I love your jewelry because not only are the beads handmade, but the designs are always unique. When I wear your jewelry, I know no one in the world has another one like it. That rocks. And your jewelry is extremely well made. I've never had one piece come apart on me. It's elegant, beautiful, well made. Just stunning. Which is why no matter how many necklaces or earrings I have, I keep buying more!" --Emmi in GA

"When I was searching for the best jewelry for my girlfriend for Christmas, I was stuck. I'd visited many stores and web sites, but nothing had that special, unique feel that I wanted for my gift. After stopping by lindaleestudio, I found so many great pieces that I didn't know where to begin! And when I gave her a hand-crafted, one-of-a-kind set of earrings, the look in her eyes let me know I'd made the right choice. Thanks, Lindalee!" --Jacques in CT

"Approximately a year ago I was looking for something a little 'different' in the way of jewelry to give my daughter who is now nineteen & is, honestly, a little hard to please. It isn't that it has to be expensive... it's just in order for it to be a piece she will truly love it has to be 'different' & even a little 'quirky'. She does not like anything too 'girly' or fragile & we have to take issues like length & material into mind because we're both tired of cutting up poor innocent artwork to get it out of her very long, very thick, very curly hair.

Somewhere in there I discovered Linda Lee & her on line studio & Etsy site & fell in love with a corded necklace she had made where all the beads had been strung & knotted in place to form a sort of braided triple strand~~ all in the front, exactly what we needed. When I mentioned to her Morgan prefers a shorter length than the necklace was originally she promptly offered to shorten it. I purchased it & received it so swiftly I was stunned. My daughter LOVED it & literally didn't take it off for a year & constantly received compliments on it~~ & still does. The beads are gorgeous & original & the necklace itself was well made & sturdy; it's been on her neck through a trip to New Orleans, swimming in the Gulf, & her first year of college where her after class job was at a day care & it survived being tugged & chewed on by toddlers. She loves it so much that when I spotted a ring on Linda Lee's site made with the same bead I immediately purchased it also & once again Linda Lee offered to re-size it & it arrived immediately~~ along with a second necklace she also re-sized for us in the same style as the first but with different beads. She immediately put the new one on & now IT hasn't been off her neck since. In fact, the only time I've seen her neck for the last year WITHOUT one of the two was in two pictures taken during her cruise to Cozumel & it was so odd to see her without it that I gasped in shock~~ & learned that while she went snorkeling, another girl went into the city to shop & explore & asked if she could borrow it.

Gorgeous, original, one of a kind pieces which arrive promptly & are very well made & durable by an artist who doesn't get snippy if you 'order off the menu'... you can't go wrong." --Glenda in TX

If you'd like to offer a testimonial for my jewelry, all you have to do is comment to this post! Thank you so much!