s00061 Castle That Was Not in the Sky

$35.00

Title: Castle That Was Not in the Sky

I made this piece on a quiet night when my thoughts were louder than world outside. Pink stone reminded me of Makarska, the little Adriatic town where I once ran through narrow cobbled streets with my long, messy, honey-colored hair catching salt and whispers of sea wind. I was sixteen, and I remember feeling like I carried some secret weight, one I could not name. I never fit in there, among people who belonged to each other. And here, so far from that small town, I am still foreigner. No matter how hard I try, I do not belong anywhere.

This pendant grew from that ache, though perhaps also from something softer, quiet rebellion of wire and stone. I let copper wire curve in its own defiance, way the wild vines curl around forgotten fences, never asking permission. Green glass beads, tangled like seaweed in a secret cove, catch little fragments of light, as if trying to remember home long lost beneath waves.

I thought of old folk tale my grandmother once told me, about the castle that was neither in the sky nor on the earth, and the dragon who stole the girl who did not belong anywhere. That story stayed with me. Sometimes I think I am still building that castle, high enough so no one can reach me, yet heavy enough to never float away.

When I work copper with my hands, I almost hear sea again, voices of gulls, my younger self leaning against warm stone walls, hiding from laughter of others who understood something I never could. There is solace in creating something that carries both absence and presence, as if the stone remembers too.

Perhaps this pendant is not just adornment, but fragment of a forgotten diary — mine, maybe yours too. When you wear it, it is not shouting for world to see; it just whispers, softly, I am here, even if I do not belong.

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Title: Castle That Was Not in the Sky

I made this piece on a quiet night when my thoughts were louder than world outside. Pink stone reminded me of Makarska, the little Adriatic town where I once ran through narrow cobbled streets with my long, messy, honey-colored hair catching salt and whispers of sea wind. I was sixteen, and I remember feeling like I carried some secret weight, one I could not name. I never fit in there, among people who belonged to each other. And here, so far from that small town, I am still foreigner. No matter how hard I try, I do not belong anywhere.

This pendant grew from that ache, though perhaps also from something softer, quiet rebellion of wire and stone. I let copper wire curve in its own defiance, way the wild vines curl around forgotten fences, never asking permission. Green glass beads, tangled like seaweed in a secret cove, catch little fragments of light, as if trying to remember home long lost beneath waves.

I thought of old folk tale my grandmother once told me, about the castle that was neither in the sky nor on the earth, and the dragon who stole the girl who did not belong anywhere. That story stayed with me. Sometimes I think I am still building that castle, high enough so no one can reach me, yet heavy enough to never float away.

When I work copper with my hands, I almost hear sea again, voices of gulls, my younger self leaning against warm stone walls, hiding from laughter of others who understood something I never could. There is solace in creating something that carries both absence and presence, as if the stone remembers too.

Perhaps this pendant is not just adornment, but fragment of a forgotten diary — mine, maybe yours too. When you wear it, it is not shouting for world to see; it just whispers, softly, I am here, even if I do not belong.

#rubiace #ballarat #ballaratartist #artisan #ballaratfarmersmarket #ballaratmade #BallaratMaker #australianmade #wirewrappedjewelry #handcraftedjewelry #copperjewelry #slowmade #makersmovement #artisanmade #poeticjewelry #wearablepoetry #ballaratart #handmadewithlove #beadedjewelry