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Title: Plumlight and Copper
There are pieces I do not plan — they arrive like poems half-remembered, or dreams you wake from with scent still in your nose.
This pendant was such thing.
The amethyst, with its pale spine of light through deep violet, reminded me of home — not where I live now, but where I first felt. In Makarska, I was little girl with wild, honey-colored hair, always barefoot, always hungry for something I couldn't name. My grandfather would sit in front yard beneath plum tree, its crooked limbs heavy with sugar-fat fruit. He sang old songs, his voice like worn leather, and I, greedy and soft, kept stuffing warm purple plums in my mouth until I could no longer chew. I did not know that was heaven then. Only now, after so many winters, I do.
This piece is not just stone and wire. It’s memory. It's fire.
I used bare copper wire in three voices — strong, soft, and slender — to wrap and hold the amethyst not like cage, but like arms. The glass flower rests near the throat, delicate and open. And above it, where you might expect bead, there is none.
Instead, I lit torch and let flame coax the copper until it surrendered, melting into single, quiet drop. Not placed — become. The still breath of fire, frozen mid-fall.
I do not measure wire. I do not draw plans. I listen. My hands follow shape, curve, tension — like listening for the truth under someone's silence.
This piece took hours, but more than that — it took parts of me that don’t show on clocks.
It may not be for everyone. But if you know the scent of warm plums, and bees, and song — maybe it’s for you.
#rubiace #ballarat #ballaratartist #artisan #wirewrappedjewelry #copperjewelry #amethystpendant #wearablepoetry #makersofinstagram #slowcraft #elementaljewelry #intuitivedesign #BohoChic #ArtisanJewelry
🟣⚒️🍇
Some will say too much wire, or too strange shape, or too simple.
But someone — ah, someone will feel plum tree.
And they will understand.
(I wrap. I not always understand why. But I must.)
Title: Plumlight and Copper
There are pieces I do not plan — they arrive like poems half-remembered, or dreams you wake from with scent still in your nose.
This pendant was such thing.
The amethyst, with its pale spine of light through deep violet, reminded me of home — not where I live now, but where I first felt. In Makarska, I was little girl with wild, honey-colored hair, always barefoot, always hungry for something I couldn't name. My grandfather would sit in front yard beneath plum tree, its crooked limbs heavy with sugar-fat fruit. He sang old songs, his voice like worn leather, and I, greedy and soft, kept stuffing warm purple plums in my mouth until I could no longer chew. I did not know that was heaven then. Only now, after so many winters, I do.
This piece is not just stone and wire. It’s memory. It's fire.
I used bare copper wire in three voices — strong, soft, and slender — to wrap and hold the amethyst not like cage, but like arms. The glass flower rests near the throat, delicate and open. And above it, where you might expect bead, there is none.
Instead, I lit torch and let flame coax the copper until it surrendered, melting into single, quiet drop. Not placed — become. The still breath of fire, frozen mid-fall.
I do not measure wire. I do not draw plans. I listen. My hands follow shape, curve, tension — like listening for the truth under someone's silence.
This piece took hours, but more than that — it took parts of me that don’t show on clocks.
It may not be for everyone. But if you know the scent of warm plums, and bees, and song — maybe it’s for you.
#rubiace #ballarat #ballaratartist #artisan #wirewrappedjewelry #copperjewelry #amethystpendant #wearablepoetry #makersofinstagram #slowcraft #elementaljewelry #intuitivedesign #BohoChic #ArtisanJewelry
🟣⚒️🍇
Some will say too much wire, or too strange shape, or too simple.
But someone — ah, someone will feel plum tree.
And they will understand.
(I wrap. I not always understand why. But I must.)