I was hooked by an island in Italy, a factory in the Alps, and the old bronze stuff of plebians.
The origins of this shop began with my travels, back in the '90s. The glassmakers of Murano taught me jewelry could be about expression. They went about their work as if it mattered, and as if they were leaving slivers of themselves behind in the blown objects, lampworked Venetian glass and gorgeous millefiori.
Then there was the crystal. I'd never been a "girly girl." Heck, I barely wore any jewelry at all aside from an occasional casual necklace on leather cord. But the shimmer of Swarovski--born in the Austrian Tyrol, where I spent summers while in college--whet an appetite for gleam. Now, my favorite look is the contrast of "rustic glam" -- rustic things from nature highlighted by a wee bit of shimmer. This style reminds me of my visits to Swarovski, where a creative glint rose out of the rugged cliffs and peaks.
I'm also interested in the jewelry of the past. I have a little collection of affordable ancient Roman pieces--things like bronze signet rings and fascinating old toga pins. I love to imagine the people who wore them, long before the days of smart phones and YouTube. Maybe those people were not so different from us, and the person who made the ring or the pin was doing exactly what I do today. I speculate that he felt much the same.
When I make jewelry, it is calming. My primary work is as a freelance journalist, and sometimes meeting deadlines and chasing sources can be stressful. Designing jewelry is a type of zen escape, which is why I named this shop Meditations.
