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A cowgirl and her dad find meaning in their Sweet Bird Studio creations

By ELLISE PIERCE

Faith, hope, and love. Irony, whimsy, and the power of positive intention.

That's a lot to pack into belt buckles, hat pins, and jewelry, but that's exactly what Nancy Anderson, the creative cowgirl spirit behind Sweet Bird Studio, does.

Her art pieces — she calls them "wearable shrines of intention" — are as much agents of change and healing as they are fashion statements. And they are literally statements: Almost everything she makes comes with a message of empowerment. Grab Life by the Horns ... I Like Everybody ... Dare to Fly ... This Very Moment.

"Art does save lives," says Anderson, who six years ago was about to give up on her own art career of more than 15 years and get a regular day job during a period of both personal and professional trials.

Then one day, after hours and hours in her garage studio near Boulder, Colorado, she had a breakthrough. Anderson emerged from the studio with a belt buckle of Our Lady of Guadalupe in hand that declared: "Release the Vision." It was a light on her future path.

"I knew I was finally coming to grips with the fact that I loved what I was doing but that I'd gotten sidetracked. Luckily, art follows you sometimes. Going forward, everything had to be fun, with intention and meaning. I promised myself I would only make things that would serve my soul. When you do what you love, avenues open up."

And so do opportunities on a stage much bigger than the workbench. Among her clientele: Ronnie Dunn, for whom she did a custom buckle.

"From that he asked me to do some creative work for [his band Brooks & Dunn], and I ended up doing T-shirt graphics and graphic stills for their videos that play while they are onstage." And Lucinda Williams — "She's a real collector and has about 10 of my buckles. She has inspired more than a few quotes on my buckles, like 'Get right with God' and 'Don't let anyone take your joy.'"

Emmylou Harris, Daryl Hannah, Little Big Town, Tim McGraw, Faith Hill, Sheryl Crow — Anderson counts plenty of celebs as customers, but her inspiration isn't celebrity appeal.

If anything, her biggest inspirations are the everyday people she meets. They often send her notes and e-mails — she collects them in a binder — thanking her and sharing stories about the meaning her pieces have brought.

For the artist, it's all about that meaning, that connection, whether it's a mother expressing gratitude for a winged bracelet engraved inside with "Jake" to honor a terribly missed son "who now has wings" or the former country singer who gave up her art for her first love (he left her anyway) and who now finds strength every day in a Sweet Bird buckle and Statue of Liberty necklace that says "Live Free."

Living in the shadow of Longs Peak, Anderson comes by the quest for a meaningful, artful, authentically Western life honestly.

Her dad, Frank Anderson, spent his early years living at a gold mine in Eureka, Utah, where his dad was the mine superintendent.

Now an active blacksmith living near Telluride, Frank grew up in Aspen, Colorado, in the '40s and '50s. After serving many years in the U.S. Army, he became a custom log-home builder in the '80s and later took up furniture and cabinet making.

Like his daughter, Frank has some big-name clients, Ralph Lauren among them. Two unusual projects for Lauren included building a bunk bed for a tepee and designing and crafting an Adirondack-themed Airstream trailer.

Frank's artistic life was colored by formative years in "old" Aspen.

"In the early days in Aspen, all the old mine buildings, train trestles, ore bins, and mines were still intact," he recalls in notes he has titled "Inspirational Places/People in the West and My Thoughts on Freedom." "There was so much to explore. Hunting and fishing were readily available out the back door. In those days, there were no no-trespassing signs, no restrictions on where you could or could not go."

His inspirations were his own dad and other early Aspenites: "mostly skiers — many vets of the 10th Mountain Division. The old-timers were an exotic mix of miners, cowboys, mule skinners, loggers, and working stiffs."

They were folks with names like One-Eyed Joe, Hoofy Sandstrom, Buttons Tekoucich, Dirty Herwick, and the Whispering Swede.

He was a free spirit living a life of unusual freedom — a gift he in turn gave to daughter Nancy.

Anderson credits her way of seeing and being to travels with her dad through the West.

"When I was a kid, we'd take trips in the station wagon. My dad is the kind of guy who, whether we lived in Europe or the States, would talk to people on the street and strike up immediate friendships."

Their explorations together gave Anderson wanderlust, an eye for found art, and a desire to connect.

"I'm always gathering, walking through alleys instead of on sidewalks to look for things on the ground," she says. "I love the collecting, and I meet the greatest people."

It might be an old tin in a barn, a marble in an alleyway, quotes and scraps of text wherever they pop up, even a chance meeting with a lawn-art artist in Pueblo that ends in an accordion concert in the guy's turquoise living room.

Somehow it all becomes something Sweet Bird — pieces that will be handed down to generations too young to know the words to the Joni Mitchell song after which Anderson named her studio.

"The lyrics are about time and change and the fleeting nature of life and beauty — fitting for a company based on adornments, and a reminder to make jewelry based in meaning."

That everyman-philosopher bent comes from her dad, who shares his love of art and its rewards with his daughter. That common bond has developed a special relationship between them. They also share a quest to keep chipping away at the meaning of life.

"How far we have come, but where are we going?" he recently wrote on a postcard to his daughter. It was a comment that both evoked the nostalgia of their road trips and pointed up the perilous direction of society.

The rhetorical nudge sent Anderson down her next creative avenue — Free the Sheep — a national project which aims to combat the "numbing down" of America in a funky revisitation of Dorothea Lange's 1930s documentary work. She hopes to hit the road this summer to conduct interviews throughout the United States.

"We will be searching for, finding, and documenting 'living national treasures' — you might say the 'free sheep' — people who truly embody aware, alive, and 'free' citizens of our country. More often than not, we're sleep-deprived, unhappy in relationships, stuck in traffic, stuck in sameness — in essence we've been duped," Anderson says.

"I think people are wondering, When did I become the lost lamb? I know I do! How do we live a life with more meaning? We need cafes, conversations with locals, life like it was when folks weren't in a hurry."

Anderson sees it — her Free the Sheep adventure as well as her Sweet Bird creations — as a way to bring meaning and originality back, to bring hope and optimism to people.

"People really do have the answers in themselves," Anderson says. "I want to hear their stories, and I want them to know we don't have to look for inspiration. If our hearts and our minds are open, it's right in front of us."

In Anderson's case, right in front of her at the moment is a studio full of quotes. The one sitting right next to her is advice from Teddy Roosevelt: "Do what you can, with what you have, where you are."

Anderson doesn't miss a beat adding a coda that would make her dad proud: "And always, always be who you are — the world worships the original."

• Sweet Bird Studio creates jewelry for people and their dogs, horses, and cowboy hats. Visit www.sweetbirdstudio.com. Feel free? Nancy Anderson wants to hear from you. Go to www.freethesheep.com for details.

Art that cares

Nancy Anderson is passionate about making sure her Sweet Bird jewelry is American-made: "You lose something ultimately important when you sub out your work overseas — quality. I believe in American ingenuity, creativity, and quality more than ever. And I'm happy to do my own small part by employing the most fun, most talented group of people to work alongside me."

It's one way of giving back. Anderson also gives back through workshops on empowerment through art that she teaches to women and children at shelters.

But what really gets her philanthropic fever up is There With Care, a nonprofit project with good friend Paula Dupree, who formerly produced Harry Potter movies.

There With Care networks with hospitals, businesses, professionals, and volunteers to provide practical services to children and families facing a medical crisis.

To help fund the effort, Anderson and Dupree are developing an online catalog of products that will include everything from care bags for patients with cancer to healing jewelry talismans.

"It might be a thermal bag you could leave on the porch of a friend going through chemo, or art projects you could send to your grandson across the country if he was going through a hard time," Anderson says. "We have a board of eight amazing women. And the success rate of saving the children is pretty good, too."

To find out more, visit www.therewithcare.org.

Issue: July 2009