s00034 dendric agate pendant

$55.00

Title: “The Silence Beneath the Mountain”

Some stones are not found—they are remembered.

This pendant, with its quiet heart of dendritic agate and the warm sinew of hand-woven copper, is a small fragment of a larger memory. I made it not as an ornament, but as an echo. As I wrapped the wire, guiding it around the delicate edge of the stone like a poet tracing the curve of a forgotten word, I found myself back in the vertical caves of Biokovo.

I was perhaps ten, knees bruised, knuckles raw, descending with my cousins into cold blue dark of mountain’s mouth. The garbit light—the kind that slips sideways through cloud and stone—caught on frost and glistened like laughter in a church. We had no map, only the rope, courage, and the kind of reckless joy children mistake for invincibility. The ice in those caves was old, ancient even, and the stones... they whispered things. I didn’t understood them then. I still don’t, not fully.

This dendritic agate holds some of that silence. The feathery inclusions—like fossilised ferns or the shadows of trees lost in fog—seem to move when the light shifts, as if the stone is still remembering a forest it once was. The copper, aged slightly to a mellow glow, bends not in domination but in dialogue with the stone. There is no symmetry, only balance. No perfection, only intent.

The pendant is meant to be worn close to the skin. It warms with the wearer. It changes with light. It listens, like a secret kept kindly.

I made this for someone who walks slowly through the world, who notices things. Someone who is not afraid of quiet.

It is not big. It is not loud. But it means something.

(There is one loop, you see, which is not where it should have be—this is not mistake, but reminder. That even the most careful hands sometimes let the heart speak louder than the plan.)

—

#rubiace #ballarat #ballaratartist #artisan #dendriticagate #wirewrappedjewelry #poeticcraft #copperpendant #makersofinstagram #slowmade #childhoodmemories #caveofbiokovo

Even now, when I see the frost in early morning, I think of those caves. Of rope between fingers. Of stone that breathes.

And I wonder—how many memories do we wear without even knowing?

—R.

Title: “The Silence Beneath the Mountain”

Some stones are not found—they are remembered.

This pendant, with its quiet heart of dendritic agate and the warm sinew of hand-woven copper, is a small fragment of a larger memory. I made it not as an ornament, but as an echo. As I wrapped the wire, guiding it around the delicate edge of the stone like a poet tracing the curve of a forgotten word, I found myself back in the vertical caves of Biokovo.

I was perhaps ten, knees bruised, knuckles raw, descending with my cousins into cold blue dark of mountain’s mouth. The garbit light—the kind that slips sideways through cloud and stone—caught on frost and glistened like laughter in a church. We had no map, only the rope, courage, and the kind of reckless joy children mistake for invincibility. The ice in those caves was old, ancient even, and the stones... they whispered things. I didn’t understood them then. I still don’t, not fully.

This dendritic agate holds some of that silence. The feathery inclusions—like fossilised ferns or the shadows of trees lost in fog—seem to move when the light shifts, as if the stone is still remembering a forest it once was. The copper, aged slightly to a mellow glow, bends not in domination but in dialogue with the stone. There is no symmetry, only balance. No perfection, only intent.

The pendant is meant to be worn close to the skin. It warms with the wearer. It changes with light. It listens, like a secret kept kindly.

I made this for someone who walks slowly through the world, who notices things. Someone who is not afraid of quiet.

It is not big. It is not loud. But it means something.

(There is one loop, you see, which is not where it should have be—this is not mistake, but reminder. That even the most careful hands sometimes let the heart speak louder than the plan.)

—

#rubiace #ballarat #ballaratartist #artisan #dendriticagate #wirewrappedjewelry #poeticcraft #copperpendant #makersofinstagram #slowmade #childhoodmemories #caveofbiokovo

Even now, when I see the frost in early morning, I think of those caves. Of rope between fingers. Of stone that breathes.

And I wonder—how many memories do we wear without even knowing?

—R.