Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Title: A Memory Caught in Copper and Flame
Some evenings, they never really leave. They return quietly, like steam on window glass—soft, familiar. You don’t see them all at once, but they’re there, waiting.
We had known each other long before this autumn. Not in grand, storming kind of love, but the slow one—like leaves falling in the autumn evening. The kind where eyes know before mouths speak.
That day in the park, the leaves had already given up. Gold, rust, ochre—falling all around like old music. We walked slowly, as we always did, shoulder to shoulder, sometimes touching, sometimes not. When he kissed me, it wasn’t surprise. It felt like remembering something I didn’t know I had forgotten.
Then we laughed, a little awkward, a little shy. Not like children, but like two people who have been serious too long. We rolled down a small slope, into the grass and dead leaves, and for one moment I was not thinking of time, or endings, or anything at all. Just his hand in mine, and the weight of him beside me.
This pendant is what I made from that day.
The labradorite holds light like his eyes in the sun—blue, green, a little stormy. I wrapped it in copper, warm and strong, not perfect—because perfect things, they do not last. At the top, a glass leaf—just one. It’s like the one that clung to his jacket after we stood again. It stayed longer than expected, like him.
To wear this is to carry a piece of memory. Maybe not mine. Maybe yours. Maybe something waiting still to happen.
I made it slow, with care. I hope it finds someone who also remembers gently.
—R.A.
#rubiace #ballarat #ballaratartist #artisan #handmadejewelry #wirewrappedjewelry #labradoritependant #copperjewelry #makersofinstagram #wearablepoetry #slowmade #artisanjewelry #imzadi #copperjewellery #copperart
Title: A Memory Caught in Copper and Flame
Some evenings, they never really leave. They return quietly, like steam on window glass—soft, familiar. You don’t see them all at once, but they’re there, waiting.
We had known each other long before this autumn. Not in grand, storming kind of love, but the slow one—like leaves falling in the autumn evening. The kind where eyes know before mouths speak.
That day in the park, the leaves had already given up. Gold, rust, ochre—falling all around like old music. We walked slowly, as we always did, shoulder to shoulder, sometimes touching, sometimes not. When he kissed me, it wasn’t surprise. It felt like remembering something I didn’t know I had forgotten.
Then we laughed, a little awkward, a little shy. Not like children, but like two people who have been serious too long. We rolled down a small slope, into the grass and dead leaves, and for one moment I was not thinking of time, or endings, or anything at all. Just his hand in mine, and the weight of him beside me.
This pendant is what I made from that day.
The labradorite holds light like his eyes in the sun—blue, green, a little stormy. I wrapped it in copper, warm and strong, not perfect—because perfect things, they do not last. At the top, a glass leaf—just one. It’s like the one that clung to his jacket after we stood again. It stayed longer than expected, like him.
To wear this is to carry a piece of memory. Maybe not mine. Maybe yours. Maybe something waiting still to happen.
I made it slow, with care. I hope it finds someone who also remembers gently.
—R.A.
#rubiace #ballarat #ballaratartist #artisan #handmadejewelry #wirewrappedjewelry #labradoritependant #copperjewelry #makersofinstagram #wearablepoetry #slowmade #artisanjewelry #imzadi #copperjewellery #copperart