1″ x 1.5″, ceramic
I usually have a relatively clear map in my head of how my day will go, how my week will go, and then it gets blurrier from there. But lately there have been so many changes and unknowns each day that I can’t even see the one-day map. This pendant, made from a child’s ceramic tea set, represents the unexpected twists and turns that my days have been taking, making my mental map labyrinthian.
1″ x .75″, found objects
I was by my grandmother’s side the night before she passed away and it’s hard, as you watch someone fade away, not to think about the time they had and the time two two of you had together. I wish there had been more time to hear stories before she wasn’t able to speak, and more time to laugh together before she lost her bearings, but 98 years is a long time. In the light, this watch face pulses with deep reds as it moves, and reminds me of all the time before she faded.
1″ x .5″, found objects
I sometimes accidentally design pendants that have sharp bits at the bottom because I love the look of curves tapering to a point. But this time I thought ahead and pointed the old calligraphy pen nib up, so it won’t poke anyone. There it is, partly buried, a memory of all the stories it once wrote, darkened by ink and age. And from its sides grow branches and fruits, new creations emerging from the writer’s pen.
1″ x 2″, found objects
I love tools. and I love hardware. As a kid I would spend hours and hours looking through the little bins at the hardware store down the street from my house, comparing sizes and imagining what it could become. But sadly, I’m still not taken seriously when I walk into most hardware stores. As a woman I need to prove to the men who seem to haunt the isles that I do indeed have business there and that I don’t need to be condescended to. This pendant will be a hardware-full shield against the sexism that’s still rampant in construction, art and manufacturing. Beautiful and tough.