Turquoise & Silver for the Modern Day Warrior.

"Modern Day Warrior" isn't simply about my Combat Veteran past; it's about you.  A Warrior is strong, focused and driven.  A Warrior does not accept defeat: they do not give up.  They live their lives in the best way possible.  Unafraid.  Unwavering.  They stand tall in the face of adversity.  Modern Day Warriors are leaders, driven to succeed in everything they do.  They help others and set an example to be followed.  Modern Day Men & Women who live their lives with purpose, making each moment count.  These Modern Day Warriors are whom I am honored to see wearing my work.  The Modern Day Warrior is you.

My work is handcrafted using a traditional Diné (Navajo) technique called Tufa Casting that dates back to the 1800's; over 200 years ago. My original designs are hand carved into Tuff, a compressed volcanic ash commonly called Tufa Rock, to create a mold. I heat the mold and pour molten silver into it to form each piece. After annealing the silver is hand cut, filed and formed, then high-grade turquoise is inlayed into a bezel.

Turquoise has spiritual energy and characteristics of strength, protection and power.  Silver is a natural element and is the greatest conductor of energy of all known metals.  Silver is known to increase perception, feeling, awareness, creating a sense of balance and calmness.  Since it is a great conductor of energy, it enhances Turquoise, conducting its energy to the person who wears it.  Each and every piece of my modern contemporary jewelry is traditionally hand made, filled with energy, and created with passion. 

Heard Museum Guild Show, Phoenix AZ.

I feel very honored to have been a part of the Heard Museum in Phoenix this past weekend.  It is humbling to be in the company of so many great artists.  This was my first show ever.  I believe it was a great success.  Thank you so very much to everyone who came by my booth space!  It is because of you that the show is possible.  :)  The future looks bright.  Look forward to lots of new creations.  I hope to see you all in Santa Fe. - Jeff

Ton Up, Harley Flat Tracker Ride

Above a certain speed there is a point in time that your body becomes weightless and begins to float. Your spirit disconnects and soars above, looking down at a machine making split decisions, analyzing terrain, and negotiating curves as it flies through the crisp clean air.  It is here that i find inspiration.


Above and Beyond...Literally - My Tornado Experience

April 22, 2012

     I was on duty, Air Force Security Forces (military police) at South Gate of Lambert Air Base adjacent to Lambert Airport in St Louis Missouri, when a tornado hit at approximately 20:10 (8:10pm for you civilian folks). Although severe weather had been forecast for the evening, we had not received a weather warning from Scott AFB, which was standard procedure. As I performed my normal duties controlling entry onto the base, I periodically checked the digital Doppler radar on my Iphone. I had been watching two separate cells of severe weather move in on the radar from the St. Charles area, moving west to east, and keeping an eye on the sky. I thought it was going to pass by to the north as storms had in the past. As the evening progressed, the radar showed the storm systems converging on my location.

     At about 19:30 the warning sirens sounded. Although it was raining, with thunder and lightning, I saw no evidence of a tornado and maintained my post. MSO Kozlowski at BDOC and SGT Donnelly advised me that in the event of an actual tornado I should take shelter in the tunnel that ran under Lambert International Blvd, connecting the north and south sides of the base. I had not yet closed the metal swing arm gates to the base because I had several  people coming onto the base to park, who were flying out for the Easter Holiday.

     At around 19:50 (7:50pm) the wind picked up slightly in gusts as the storm increased in intensity. Doppler radar now showed the two separate red storm cells about to collide somewhere in the sky above us. The warning sirens had stopped sounding. The temperature dropped and the flag of building 100 to my South was now blowing east to west although the clouds overhead were moving from west to east. We lost power momentarily to the street lights and it suddenly appeared to get much darker out. There was still enough ambient light that I could clearly see the buildings behind me and with flashes of lightening watch clouds swirling overhead. Although the street lights had gone out, the South Gate still had power as did the stoplights. I flipped on the exterior flood lights to make the gate more visible to incoming traffic.

     A little after 20:00 (8:00pm) the rain suddenly stopped and the wind subsided. Outside the air had become eerily greenish. I switched off the two exterior flood lights so I could see out more clearly. To the west of my location I could hear a roaring sound. I couldn’t tell if it was the wind, which was strangely calm, or perhaps semi trucks on highway 70. I stepped outside to the inbound lane to get a better look at the sky and listened…. I couldn’t see anything. To my west I could hear a dull roaring sound and a click clack click clack. I remembered reading somewhere that tornados sound like freight trains but oddly couldn’t decide if what I was hearing sounded like a train or not. I was going to close the big metal swing arm gates at that time, but the frequency of lightening had increased and was much closer. The warning sirens started up again and were loud enough to drown out most everything else. It suddenly started pouring rain and a wind gust knocked down the portable stop sign in the inbound lane. I stepped inside and closed the glass door behind me. I was seriously considering going into the tunnel at this point, but didn’t want to leave my post with the gates open in case another car came in. I quickly collected the clipboards that held TDY parking and sign in sheets, thinking that if any cars were damaged we would need the info to make necessary contacts. I as I secured the clipboards in the desk drawer and closed it rain was hitting the glass so hard it was difficult to see outside. It looked like the big eastern white pine trees north of bldg 100 were touching the ground from the wind. I had maintained radio contact with MSO Kozlowski at BDOC, and informed him that I would be moving to the tunnel. He came back with, “Go! Go! Do what you need to do!” “Do what you need to do!” As I reached for the hand microphone attached to my right shirt collar to respond, there were one or more big explosions behind me to the south that seemed to light up the sky. Everything went black. Into the mic I respnded, “I’m going!” To the east almost simultaneously I exited the door, seeing showers of sparks from the power lines outside to the right of the base exit. The orange and yellow streams of sparks reminded me of fireworks I had seen on the 4th of July in Poulsbo, WA, 2009.

     With the shoulder strap of my computer bag looped around my shoulder I sprinted toward the tunnel, stuffing my beret into a left cargo pocket. Between the siren, the thunder, and the roar of the wind, I could hear nothing else. On my third step the wind hit me; knocking me down on my left side, I rolled to my feet and dove under the open entrance gate. I grabbed the concrete edge of the stairwell, its rough surface cold and wet, and launched myself onto the stairs. I sprang to the bottom left side hanging onto the big support poles on the hinge side of the locked tunnel gate. Quickly glancing to the electronic keypad, the red LED light was not on. I remembered wondering earlier how I was supposed to take shelter in the tunnel if I couldn’t open the electronic gate. At that moment I realized that with the power off I probably could not access the tunnel. Hanging on with my left hand to the support poles I quickly punched in the gate code anyway. Nothing happened. I tried to advise BDOC that the gate wouldn’t open but couldn’t make radio contact. Suddenly the tunnel became a vortex. I grabbed on with both hands as the wind was sucked through the tunnel. Taking my breath away, it knocked me off my feet and slammed my legs back and upward, whipping my lower body into the air then pounding me back down. The shoulder strap on my bag broke but I managed to grab the handle with one hand, catching it before it disappeared up the stairs. Hugging my computer bag between my body and the gate I crouched as low as I could get on the bottom left of the stairwell. As water, leaves and debris pounded me through the hurricane fence I hung on, unable to get my breath. Suddenly the wind stopped and freezing cold rain came down in torrents. Still crouched down holding on for dear life and gasping for air, I groped around for my radio hand mic. The wind had taken it off my collar so I pulled it to me by the cord. Unsuccessfully I tried to make radio contact with BDOC; I could hear them but they could not hear me. Catching my breath I cautiously looked around. I unwrapped myself from the gate pole and snuck up the stairs to look. Slowly I poked my head above ground level to take a quick look around.

     Doing a double take I looked again. In the evening light what I saw took a moment to register. Trees were uprooted; metal siding, insulation and other debris littered the ground. I could not believe what I was seeing. Grabbing my Surefire Z2 from my duty belt I stumbled up the stairs and stood upright, looking around. A small river was flowing by, exiting into the street and the sewer grate. Cars were overturned. The roof of building 100 was torn up. Trees, signs and electric poles were leveled about 75 feet from my location. Involuntarily I shuddered. Maybe from being cold and soaking wet or perhaps because I was numb from the experience.

     After what seemed like an eternity of dead silence, everything came back to life. Lights and sirens erupted from every direction. A very excited SGT Donnelly came running across the street, asking if I was okay. He said that from BDOC they had seen the funnel come whipping over my location as lightening flashed. After assuring him that I was not severely damaged, we did a quick assessment of the immediate area. Immediately noting the downed power lines and a strong natural gas odor we cordoned off access to the BCC and bldg 100 with traffic cones that we were able to salvage. Immediately we went to work relaying information to MSO Kozlowski and SSGT Bowen at BDOC, who made necessary phone calls, simultaneously took damage reports, and relayed information, all with no lighting or power.

     I returned to my post at South gate to control entry, direct traffic, and relay information to key personnel for the next 5 hours without a break. In between I was able to contact my family via cell phone. At around 01:45 SSGT

     Bowen relieved me to go change into dry socks and catch my breath. When I returned to BDOC the generator was not functional so I retrieved spare flashlights, water, and chemical light sticks from my vehicle for use at the main gate. After changing socks and collecting my thoughts, SGT Donnelly asked me to drive MSO Kozlowski to the South side of base to see the damage. MSO Kozlowski had been in BDOC the whole night and I had been at South Gate so neither of us had seen the full effect of the twister.

     I was physically exhausted. After driving from Cape Girardeau to work that morning and arriving at 13:15, being tossed around by a tornado, and then standing at South Gate cold and wet for 5 hours, my body was numb to say the least. I had a trailer parked on gravel lot and needed to know if it had sustained damage, so MSO Kozlowski and I drove to the south side to survey the damage, taking a few pictures in the process. It was only after seeing the destruction on the south side of the base that the fact I had just survived a tornado began to sink in.

     My neck and back were a little stiff, but everything seemed to be functioning normally. SMSgt Sutton strongly recommended that I go get “checked out”. By this time it was 03:00 and I was spent. After nearly being sucked into a tornado, sitting in a waiting room at a random ER in the city was not appealing to say the least. All I wanted to do was go home, change out of my soaking wet boots and uniform, and crash. After talking with SGT Donnelly and MSGT Parkinson, I made the decision to go home to my family and go to an urgent care facility for an assessment after a few hours sleep. Traffic was backed up on the highways and it was nearly 04:00 when I got home.

Saturday 23 April 26, 2011

     I woke up at 09:45, a little stiff with a sore neck and back pain radiating down my right leg. After a quick shower I went to St. Luke Urgent Care. After waiting for quite a while to see a doctor, she examined me. She stated that I had some whiplash and probably strained a muscle in my lower back, causing inflammation, putting pressure on my sciatic nerve. She ordered a muscle relaxer, a pain medication, and suggested applying heat or utilizing a hot tub to help the muscles relax. She advised me to take it really easy for the next week. I told her that I needed to get back to work ASAP because we would be stretched thin because of the tornado damage. She wrote a "quarters" order for the rest of Saturday, 23 April, through Sunday, 24 April; because Monday and Tuesday were my normal days off I told her that I would not be working those days anyway. She advised me to be sure to take the medications at a minimum until the end of the month to relieve the tightness and muscle inflammation so I could heal. I ended up getting call back into work Monday afternoon, driving through a raging storm and tornado warnings to get there, but that is another story not yet for public release…

SSGT Jeffrey A. DeMent

131 Security Forces Squadron

Celebrating life / Mourning death - 13 February, 2007

13 February, 2007 

     Sitting at my desk, I glance outside... The wind howls. It is starting to the snow. Tiny flakes momentarily appear, only to be wisked away by the frigid wind. Nature has a way of speaking to us. To our very soul. The conditions outside reflect how I feel deep down inside. Cold, unsettled... In a transitional state somewhere between celebrating life and mourning death.

     Death itself is not new to me, it made itself very real in the combat zones of Southeast Asia. But it is different now. Closer and more real than ever. Inevitable.  I was told in late December (2006) that my mother's cancer had returned. This time in the brain stem. Virtually untreatable. They gave her less than a year... In January, her condition worsened. Affecting her sight and sense of balance she became unable to walk unassisted or care for herself. Just months before, when I was home for Thanksgiving she was so full of life.

     Thinking back from this moment, it is amazing how very fast our lives can change... I left Colorado in mid January(2007).  It wasn't a choice for me really. I remember knowing what I needed to do. In fact, the week before I left there I had known. There was a strange feeling somewhere deep down inside... It told me I needed to be home in Missouri. My cousin, who lived nearby in Silt, Colorado, had called saying he really needed to talk to me. I didn't think alot of it. When I saw him he told me he felt like my family at home in Missouri needed me and he felt that I needed to go home. At the time, that seemed rather odd comming from him... Still I pushed the feeling away. That week I found out why...

    It was a cold snowy Tuesday morning. I was on the Beaver Creek Landing jobsite in Vail, Colorado. Something had not felt right that day... I spoke to my mother on the phone... Standing in the living room of an unfinished condo on the third floor, looking down upon the construction going on below... My mom told me that she had been in Springfield to see her doctor... They said the cancer was winning... And gave her a month to live. At that moment the world seemed to stop for me. The sounds of construction faded away and I was alone. Not sure what to think or how to feel....

Adventure as treatment along the path to enlightenment

Excerpt from: My Life, On the Edge May 2006

     On a recent trip to Colorado I had the opportunity to experience outdoor adventure as treatment first hand. Sometimes it is necessary to take a break and get away in order to find one's self, and to analyze and process our thoughts and feelings so that we may learn from them in order to better ourselves. It has been my experience that there is no better place for this than the wilderness. It has been a rough year for me. I have made it through many character building experiences and am a better person because of it. I have learned much about myself and although it has been one of the most challenging years of my life, I am better for having experienced it. I will never again loose sight of who I am and those things that are most important to me. I have found my peace.

     I look out across Colorado's vast landscape. The view from the top of Sunlight Mountain's 10,000 ft summit is breathtaking. Reaching down, I lock into my bindings and start my descent, carving down the mountain on my snowboard. The wind ripping at my body.... Spray from the fresh powder hitting my face, sticking to my goggles.... Heart racing.... G-forces grinding me into the mountain face.... Hearing nothing but the sound of the razor sharp edges of my board as it cuts into the mountainside, leaving behind a deep gash that is quickly filled by the swirling snow. Struggling to see through clouded goggles.... Sights, sounds, adrenaline coursing through my body.... Thinking of nothing.... Living the moment.  In a spray of snow, I stop. Looking out across the mountain range I reflect back on my life to this point. Feelings and emotions from the past two years of my life come rushing back to me like a flood. The pain, frustration, joy, sadness, stress, anguish, and finally, peace.

       --The following is an excerpt from my Adventure Journal, which is evolving into the form of a book entitled, My Life, On the Edge.--

     Early yesterday morning as the sun came up over the rock formations to the east, the warm rays of sunshine touching my skin through an open window and filling the room with golden light.... I participated in a traditional Dine (Navajo) ceremony, to restore harmony in my life.

     First I drank a tea, brewed from sage and four of the trees that grow on the mountain. The tea is said to detoxify and rid the body of all evil and bad things. The tea is ingested each morning for four days.  Four days is significant because of the number four. In the Dine (Navajo) culture the four directions are important. There are four sacred mountains. Tsisnaasjini' (Mount Blanca - Dawn or White Shell Mountain) the Sacred Mountain of the East near Alamosa in San Luis Valley, Colorado; Tsoodzil (Mount Taylor - Blue Bead or Turquoise Mountain) the Sacred Mountain of the South, north of Laguna, New Mexico; Doko'oosliid (San Francisco Peaks - Abalone Shell Mountain) the Sacred Mountain of the West near Flagstaff, Arizona; and Dibé Nitsaa (Mount Hesperus - Big Mountain Sheep - Obsidian Mountain) the Sacred Mountain of the North, La Plata Mountains, Colorado. Each mountain represents a phase in life, beginning in the east with the rising sun. Continuing south, west and finally north.

    After drinking the cleansing tea I sat upon a traditional hand woven rug and performed the first part of the ceremony. Small minerals were used that represent each color of the earth. I chose one to represent each element in my life. After choosing a mineral I held it up to the light (sun) and though of what it would symbolize for me. Then I placed it in front of me on a piece of cloth. One colored mineral from the earth represented each thing important in my life. I chose a white mineral for myself to symbolize purity of mind and soul. Then other colors to represent the other aspects of my life. One differently colored mineral each for my mother, my father, my brothers, one for the land, the animals and for all possessions.

     Next, feathers were taken from the right and left wings, the tail, the breast and the down. Each feather was touched to the palm of my right hand and held up to the light, and then placed upon the cloth in front of me. The greatest of these was the feathers from the eagle All the time this was happening I was being prayed for in my native language and I prayed to my god to bless each of these elements that symbolized important parts of my life. Corn pollen was also an important part of the ceremony because it represents life to the Dine people.

     I was asked to remove my shoes. They were blessed so they will carry me down the right path. Then I smoked. Blowing smoke from the ceremonial pipe in each of the four directions, east, south, west, and north, then all around the circle that is myself. I then blew smoke onto my legs that they may be strong and lead me down the right path; my torso that I may be healthy; my arms that they may be strong; my hands that they may show respect, kindness and love; my heart that it may show me the way and it may radiate the love that is within me; my face that it may express happiness and love; my mouth that I may always speak the truth; my head that my mind may be healed and I may find peace to become the person that I know I am.

     As the ceremony continued, each part of my body was blessed with ash from the pipe which also included shavings from the ram's horn. It is said that the ram's horn creates sparks on the rocks as it comes down the mountain. These sparks symbolize the spark that will reignite the balance within myself.
I went outside, knelt, and placed the contents of the cloth at the base of a pinion tree. There I prayed to god to restore harmony in my life; to allow me to find and become the person I had lost. I prayed that I would know deep in my heart the path to take and would have the strength to follow it. I prayed for health and blessings upon each part of my life symbolized by the colored minerals and for harmony to be restored to each of them. Under the Pinion tree I buried the cloth, folded to contain the colored minerals. I rose, turning to the east and walked away, beginning my long journey home. (Jeff DeMent. My Life, On the Edge. May 2006.)

    No matter where I go or what I do, I will never forget the lessons of the past years. As challenging as things sometimes seem, if we are open minded there is something that can be learned from each and every experience. I believe that there are no bad experiences, only character building ones. It is what we learn about ourselves that develops our character and makes us who we are. -Jeff DeMent

Stalked by a mountain lion - 26 June 2006

From my Adventure journal

26 June 2006 - 3:45am

I was up around Boulder, CO exploring the mountains in the Toyota. My gas guage dosen't work and I should have topped it off before leaving Denver. Here I am, driving through some place called Coal Creek Canyon at after midnight, on my way to Boulder to find a hotel for the night and I run out of gas. Since it was late, I got out a light blanket I happened to have and prepared to sleep in the bed of the Yota until morning. It gets cold up in the mountains at night. Shivering in the back ont the truck, I finally doze off... Suddenly I wake up, senses on full alert. Was it the cold that had awakened me? Sitting up I look around... The darkness of the canyon contrasts sharply with the bright shining stars above. From off in the darkness comes a sound that I had never heard before. Even so, I knew immediately what it was. A coarse scream echoed through the night. Again and again. Closer and closer, circling around from behind me. Reaching down I unholster my 1911 and flip off the safety. Holding my surefire flashlight in my left hand and my .45 in the other I hear the mountain lion scream again, this time to my front... Swinging quickly I switch on my flashlight. Looking over my front sight post I see it. Two mountain lions crouched a little ways up the side of the canyon not more than 30 yards from my location. Adrenaline pumped through my body... The mountain lions crouch, eyes glowing gold in the light... Seemingly unafraid... In two jumps they could be upon me. I wait, for what seems like forever, periodically checking the darkness around me... No longer feling the cold of the mountain air... Then they are gone, disappearing into the darkness. Moving into the cab of my truck, I wait for daylight to come. Finally light enough outside to see, I walk to find some gas... Making a mental note that as soon as I again reach civilization I will fill a fuel can and keep it in the Yota just in case.

Freezing my butt off pre-mountain lion - 26 June 2006

From my Adventure Journal....

26 June 2006 2:57am

Lying here on my back, looking up at the stars... The cold mountain air sends chills through my body. Involuntarily I shudder. Lying in the back of my truck, wrapped in a small light blanket, fighting off the cold mountain air is not where I had planned to be at three in the morning. What seems like only hours ago I was in Denver, looking for a hotel to spend the night. Now lying here in the cold, in the bed of my toyota truck, beside a lonesome stretch of dirt road I wonder to myself... Why didn't I fuel up before leaving Denver??? According to the map and my GPS unit I am not too far off highway 72 somewhere between Denver and Boulder in a place called Coal Creek Canyon. 7,267 ft into the Rocky Mountains. N39-53'58.7" W105-20'30.6". My hands are getting too cold to write...When the sun comes up I will go for fuel. For now, I am stuck here, beside the road to the middle of nowhere, trying not to freeze...

My new respect for the Colorado River -Monday 12 June, 2006

The following is from my Adventure Journal

November 5, 2010 at 11:04pm

     I almost drowned in the Colorado River this afternoon. Crazy huh? I did my first solo kayak run down an 8 mile stretch of class III/IV whitewater on the upper Colorado. It was a rush. The river was rolling. There is something mesmorizing, almost hypnotic about the way the waves seem to move upstream. The calmness of the waves in the way they seem to roll so gently and the violence with which which the river lashes out, grabbing and tearing, doing its best to suck anything and everything under into its icy depths. The water itself, icy cold. Swelling from its banks, the channel was filled with runnoff from melting snow high in the mountains... Brown and murky... Cutting into the landscape with a force that I have new found respect for.
     It happened like this. On the last turn before my extraction point the churning water passed under the old Rifle Bridge, concrete dikes were put in place to control flooding and channel the river under the bridge creating a violent rushing chute. The raging water swirls between the dikes creating a very strong undertow on both sides of the channel. I came around the curve paddling hard, battling, the raging river sucking me toward the dikes. Looking ahead... I see Class IV whitecapps roaring at the center of the chute.
     Paddling furiously, muscles burning, icy water splashing all around me, I fight the mighty Colorado. Then I was in, totally committed. Waves slammed me from the front and the current desperately struggled to pull me broadside. Then it had me, the undertow whipped my kayak sideways and rolled me under. The icy cold water instantly took my breath away. Struggling to free myself, I looked up through brown murky water at the sunlight filtrering down. Pushing hard off the bottom, breaking free somehow I surfaced, only to be rolled back under. Reaching up I wrapped one arm around the kayaks hull and somehow managed to pull myself to the suface. Struggling to breathe, the icy water pulled at my entire body. Gasping for breath I reached out with my other hand and grabbed my paddle. Knowing that if I didn't get myself out of the ice cold water my body would begin to shutdown. With my remaining strength I somehow managed to roll the kayak over and pull my body's core on top enough to take a couple deep breaths, the water burned in my lungs as I struggled to stay atop of the submerged kayak hull. Looking ahead, my legs cramping from the frigid water, both river banks are seemingly unatainable. Sliding off the kayak again into the cold water I struggled to stay afloat. Finally I managed to right the kayak and dragged my body on top with the last of my strength. Holding on with one arm, and paddling as hard as painfully possible with the other I struggled to maintain balance so as not to roll the waterfilled kayak. I finally was able to near the bank. Reaching up with my free arm I grabbed the edge of a rock. Struggling to hang on, completely exhausted...
     The freezing water was too deep to reach the bottom. I finally managed to pull myself and the water-filled kayak halfway out of the icy water. Clutching the rockface I pulled myself up inch by inch the rest of the way out of the water.  Gripping the front carry handle of the kayak collapse, utterly drained and on the verge of loosing consiousness. I lay there on a rock outcropping, gasping for breath. My muscles ached from the cramping caused by the cold water. Forcing myself to get up I pulled my kayak out and onto the bank. Dumping the water I opened the hatch. Reaching in I retrieved a small Pellican Case that contains a survival kit along with my cell phone... -Jeff DeMent

Quary Ride

This is a short clip from the video vault of an epic moto trip last summer....

Custom Moto Metal Creations

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There is a distinct feeling that accompanies a vintage work of art. Moto Metal. Work hardened. Having been subjected to extreme stress and pressure its entire life, it develops character. It has history. It tells a story. These elements combine to become a thing of beauty. Recycle. Reuse. Reducing my carbon footprint, one moto creation at a time.