Jewelry was not something I was surrounded with as a child. I remember my grandmother’s diamond engagement ring, however, which sat on her Victorian vanity because she was too afraid of losing it to wear it. She would sit and try it on frequently, but it never left the house. As a child, I was drawn to her ring. Perhaps it was the sense of emotional value associated with it. Perhaps it was the sparkle that only a diamond has. I would beg her to wear it, to no avail. I took to raiding my grandfather’s work room and fashioning rings out of his solder for my grandmother to wear. Even at that early age, I felt that jewelry was meant to be worn, meant to become a part of who you are, and meant to represent something special.
Later in life, I developed an obsession with beads. I would walk through craft stores touching strands of beads, watching the way they interacted with each other, and imagining ways to put them together. It wasn’t until 2005 that I started to make jewelry. Beginning with simple bead-stringing, I worked my way through more advanced bead work, bead-making, wire-wrapping, and silversmithing. While I use some of all of these techniques, I have developed a deep love for working with metal. Thus, the refinement of my metalsmithing skills is the current focus in my work.
When I design a piece, I want it to reflect a part of myself. I also want it to be worn. My work is not to be kept in a box on a shelf, only taken out on occasion. The true value of jewlery is not dependent on the materials used. Rather, it is the way you feel when you wear it. It is the compliment that a stranger gives you. It is the memory that is jogged every time you see it on your body. While the themes in my work will change as I do, these core beliefs will remain.