How does it work?
From start to finish it is a labor of love, an eye gone mad, a mind that’s full yet empty enough to create something new. Hands reach for the pliers, the scissors, the needle and thread. Music plays at just the right volume. The workbench is a solitary place—just the artist and the creative “gods”.
I’m often asked, “How do you get it “right?” I liken jewelry making to a puzzle—I just know when all the pieces sit in their destined places. There are moments when I turn and twist and wish that something would fit—it’s almost right for the “puzzle” but in all honesty, I know it isn’t the piece that belongs. There is very little that is planned in the process. There is intention and there are ideas but then the scissors take over in my fingers and I start cutting into century-old fabrics and appliqués. It’s a very powerful moment! I suppose I could be scared to start cutting but I never am—when did fear ever get anyone anywhere? The fabrics, trims and treasures guide the process. Some of the trims feel quite historical and I wonder sometimes if they have minds of their own!
I like to think of myself as a balanced person but in moments of great creativity, that balance is tipped to one side or another. It’s the only way something can be made to be interesting. When I am looking at something that catches my eye, and my heart starts really beating hard—so hard it feels like it’s going to jump right out, I know that someone has accomplished what he/she set out to do. Beauty connects through the eyes and moves on a direct path to the heart. When I sit down at my workbench, this is my goal. I want my jewelry to affect one’s heartbeat. It’s a lofty goal but one that makes me return to my atelier day after day.
