CHAPTER 1
Wolves in My Path
Perhaps this meeting was destiny for me, a gentle nudge to awaken me to a new level of awareness and understanding wolves.
When I was growing up, my father spent many waking hours outside alone, hidden in his garage. This was a place that he converted into a silversmith, lapidary, rock gem-cutting workshop. Inside, wooden jeweler's benches lined the walls; each one had a smooth top of Masonite wood framed in simple, raw 2-by-4 boards that finished the benches in a basic, rustic way. He had a wide variety of tools in his shop, but it was the big steel anvil that stood out like a sore thumb. He used the anvil to hammer out bracelets of sterling silver. The giant hunk of steel was painted a yellow-orange color; bolted to a large wooden stump, it was so heavy I could barely move it. The anvil sat next to an intricately designed, cast iron, antique wood stove. My father kept the stove burning in the winter, and the room stayed warm enough to work in the cold mountain atmosphere.
The cement floor seemed damp most of the time, and the moisture enhanced the petroleum smell of motor oil and gas. Combined with the unique smell of polishing compound that remained un-cleaned from the jewelry buffer, it was a very aromatic experience. My father had a unique way of creating sterling silver jewelry and unusual pieces like pickle forks and small boxes. Many of his pieces included gemstones like turquoise and jade that he himself cut and polished by hand. I can remember how much his jewelry designs resembled those of a Native American jeweler. My father always insisted he was just a silversmith as a hobby; he was not in it as a profession. He called his jewelry hand wrought. For special occasions, my mother and I would receive different earrings, rings, or bracelets.
My father prided himself on the ability to work for weeks on specific pieces, and when they were finished, he enjoyed giving them away as gifts. I was more interested in being an athlete during that time, and my favorite sport to train for was long distance running. I dreamed of one day running a marathon and trained on my own for many years. My personal best was eighteen miles at eight minutes a mile, and after training hard, running hundreds of miles, my knees began to cause me problems.
When I was in my twenties, my father taught me how to make hand wrought jewelry, and it was not long before I began to flourish, cutting out and sculpting jewelry pieces of my own design. In 1987, I started my first home business as a silversmith. I created many different earrings, pendants, pins, and more using designs I sketched up of animals, birds, feathers, and even wolf tracks. I named my new jewelry business Black Wolf Silver, inspired by a beautiful photo of a black wolf I'd found in a magazine.
I felt a strange attraction to wolves but was not sure where that feeling was coming from, as I had never been around wolves and knew very little about them. I grew up in the mountains of Colorado, with large Alaskan malamute dogs as pets; maybe that is where my affinity came from. I often took for granted the connection I felt to nature during my childhood; ever since I could walk, the mountains and forests came right up to my doorstep. During my playtime, I would roam freely with my dogs throughout the vast wilderness, oblivious and with no fear or little acknowledgment of the wild animals surrounding my home.
After working for over a year creating many jewelry pieces, I gathered my work into a collection and presented it at a small gallery opening on the Pearl Street Mall in Boulder. I immediately earned a spot as one of the featured artists and for several months ventured to sell my work there. As the months went by with minimal sales, I begin to become discouraged. I questioned my choices and longed to do more with my work than just selling at a store in Boulder. I constantly looked for opportunities that I felt would help to expand my work and be satisfying at the same time. I often donated pieces to local charities and good causes, and I entertained thoughts of someday wanting to help animals.
One day, as I sat contemplating the next jewelry design at my workbench, my father walked in the door behind me and dropped the Daily Camera, our local newspaper, down in front of my face. The paper landed on the desk with a photo of a striking black and silver wolf face up, staring out at me. Curious, I picked up the paper to read the article, about a place in southern Colorado called Mission: Wolf, a captive wolf sanctuary being built by Kent Weber and friends. It was 1989, and the article announced that Kent would be presenting Shaman, a black-colored gray wolf, at the University of Colorado as part of an educational outreach program, teaching people about the true nature of wolves and their importance in wild ecosystems. I decided to drive to Boulder and attend the program.
It was late March when the day arrived for the wolf program. The weather had been snowy and cold, and I was a little worried about driving my car down an icy, snow-packed mountain road. The program started in the afternoon, and thankfully, the day turned out sunny and clear. By the time I got into my car to go, the road was dry. Relieved, I eagerly drove my 1972 Chevy Malibu, fondly nicknamed "the green bomber," into the town of Boulder. While driving, I realized I had never seen a wolf up close before, except the Arctic wolves at the Denver Zoo. It felt as if I was on a bit of a mystery adventure. I had no idea what I had hoped to gain that day from my experience meeting Shaman.
Perhaps some kind of artistic perspective, something new and fresh, would creep into my consciousness. Besides, bettering my understanding of this legendary creature could do nothing but enhance my mind and my arts on all levels. And as a contribution to the wolf sanctuary, I created wolf-themed jewelry pieces to give as a donation. My hope was the jewelry would be sold as a fundraiser for Mission: Wolf and the money used to help with a project such as fence construction. Before I left the house, I tucked a small box packed with earrings, pendants, and pins inside my pants pocket. I was growing excited to see Shaman the wolf and hopeful for an opportunity to meet Kent in person.
I arrived a half an hour early at the university. Right away, I found a parking place large enough to park the big car. The lot was located across the street from...
