s00067 where copper breathes

$45.00

Title: Where Copper Breathes, and Stone Remembers

There are pieces I make where my hands move before my thoughts arrive, as if the copper itself has old secrets to tell, and I am only passerby who happened to overhear. This pendant was born like that, on one of those afternoons where silence feels thicker than air. A polished pink stone, soft as dusk over Makarska, cradled by copper that insists on curling and twisting the way thoughts refuse to stay straight when memory comes knocking.

Sometimes, when I hold it, I think of myself as a girl, wild honey-colored hair tangled with salt and pine needles, oblivious to so many things I should have noticed. Back then, Makarska was small, or maybe it was only me who was small. There were parties I didn’t know existed, laughter echoing from balconies I never stepped onto, lives lived parallel but never touching mine. While others danced, I was in the forests, chasing clouds and birds with a slingshot in my hand, pretending goblins lurked beneath mossy stones and that Perun himself aimed lightning at meadows where I searched for tiny purple irises. My companions were books with cracked spines, shadows under olive trees, and that constant Adriatic wind that always smelt like something leaving.

I make these pieces now and sometimes wonder if this is what belonging looks like, twisted into copper and glass, trying to find a shape that feels like home? The glass leaf catches light like Makarska’s water at noon, pale and sharp, and the little flower, fragile, unimportant, but stubborn enough to insist on being seen; reminding me of being fifteen and not knowing yet that loneliness could have its own kind of beauty.

This pendant is not loud, it does not shout its story. It simply waits, patient, carrying with it some quiet weight of time and hands and unspoken things. And maybe, when worn, it will remember better than I can.

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Title: Where Copper Breathes, and Stone Remembers

There are pieces I make where my hands move before my thoughts arrive, as if the copper itself has old secrets to tell, and I am only passerby who happened to overhear. This pendant was born like that, on one of those afternoons where silence feels thicker than air. A polished pink stone, soft as dusk over Makarska, cradled by copper that insists on curling and twisting the way thoughts refuse to stay straight when memory comes knocking.

Sometimes, when I hold it, I think of myself as a girl, wild honey-colored hair tangled with salt and pine needles, oblivious to so many things I should have noticed. Back then, Makarska was small, or maybe it was only me who was small. There were parties I didn’t know existed, laughter echoing from balconies I never stepped onto, lives lived parallel but never touching mine. While others danced, I was in the forests, chasing clouds and birds with a slingshot in my hand, pretending goblins lurked beneath mossy stones and that Perun himself aimed lightning at meadows where I searched for tiny purple irises. My companions were books with cracked spines, shadows under olive trees, and that constant Adriatic wind that always smelt like something leaving.

I make these pieces now and sometimes wonder if this is what belonging looks like, twisted into copper and glass, trying to find a shape that feels like home? The glass leaf catches light like Makarska’s water at noon, pale and sharp, and the little flower, fragile, unimportant, but stubborn enough to insist on being seen; reminding me of being fifteen and not knowing yet that loneliness could have its own kind of beauty.

This pendant is not loud, it does not shout its story. It simply waits, patient, carrying with it some quiet weight of time and hands and unspoken things. And maybe, when worn, it will remember better than I can.

#rubiace #ballarat #ballaratartist #artisan #ballaratfarmersmarket #ballaratmade #BallaratMaker #australianmade #wirewrappedjewelry #copperjewelry #gemstonelovers #handmadewirewrapped #bohojewelryaustralia #australianartists #ballaratcreatives #supportlocalartists