An old idea, with more weight.
Substance Ring.
Handmade with tourmaline quartz and recycled sterling silver.
Gemmy (for Jenny)
If my seven year old self designed a ring, this would be it: gemmy, underwatery, queeny, superpowery.
Gemmy Ring.
Handmade with fluorite and recycled sterling silver.
Life Cycles
“Life is about being and becoming.”
Life Cycles Ring.
Handmade with chalcedony and recycled sterling silver.
Gospel IV
“Who tells a finer tale than any of us. Silence does.”
Gospel of Silence Earrings IV.
Handmade with recycled sterling silver.
Tomorrow at 1 pm in my online shop.
Gospel III
“Silently a flower blooms,
In silence it falls away;
Yet here now, at this moment, at this place,
The world of the flower, the whole of the world is blooming.
This is the talk of the flower, the truth of the blossom;
The glory of eternal life is fully shining here.”
Gospel of Silence Earrings III.
Handmade with recycled sterling silver.
Gospel II
“Silence is the Sabbath of the soul. Therein we rest, and therein we hear everything.”
Gospel of Silence II Earrings.
Aretes Evangelio del Silencio II.
Gospel
“This silence, this moment, every moment, If it’s genuinely inside you, brings what you need.”
Gospel of Silence Earrings.
Handmade with recycled sterling silver.
Treasure Map IV
Treasure Map Earrings IV.
Handmade with recycled sterling silver.
Treasure Map III
Treasure Map Earrings III.
Handmade with recycled sterling silver.
Treasure Map II
Treasure Map earrings II.
Handmade with recycled sterling silver.
Treasure Map
I’ve had so much fun making this new series. Instead of starting with a whole idea, I made small shapes in silver, knowing I’d figure out what to make with them later.
As a kid, I’d cut out images from National Geographic magazines and then glue them back together to tell my own story. The same playfulness guided me here. I knew I wanted long earrings with lots of texture, like topographic maps pointing towards a hidden treasure.
Treasure Map Earrings.
Handmade with recycled sterling silver.
Unscripted
This ring was born from play. I had nothing in mind when I began, letting chance shape its form. Building it felt like solving a visual puzzle, and the outcome surprised me. I hadn’t expected the circular cutouts to become such a vital part of the composition: their darkness the perfect pool from which each chiseled line emanates.
I’m taking its lesson to heart: to trust that by staying true to what feels right in each moment, the pattern of my path will reveal its own beauty.
Unscripted Ring.
Handmade with malachite and recycled sterling silver.
Surrender
A friend told me recently that my life inspires her. She said she doesn’t know many women who choose to be alone—and not just survive it, but thrive in it.
I think of this bird as a symbol of that choice. Open wings. A heart like spring. Not resigned in weakness, but in strength. Not giving up, but letting go; guided not by despair, but by unconquerable hope.
Surrender Talisman.
Handmade with prehnite and recycled sterling silver.
Mineral
I built this piece layer by layer. I burned it until the surface bubbled and blistered, as if it had spent years underwater—like the green pond of fluorite at its center.
It’s a ring that feels ancient. A reminder that we belong to something older than time.
Mineral Ring.
Handmade with Fluorite and recycled sterling silver.
This week in my online shop.
What I Protect
Lately I’ve been listening to stories where someone’s insensitivity ruins everything—a life, the natural environment, even peace itself. It leaves me heartbroken. Can’t they feel the pain of others?
I’ve also been crying a lot: over the harmony that’s been lost, the tenderness that fades, the things that once connected us as human beings. And I’ve been wondering if feeling this much is a weakness, especially as I grow older.
But today I saw something clearly: judging myself for being sensitive only hardens me. And if I keep doing that, I risk becoming the very thing I grieve—someone who ruins beauty, first in myself, then in others.
What I Protect.
Handmade with amber and recycled sterling silver.
Navigator Ring
There are days when I lose direction. When that happens, it can take a long time for me to find my way back. Slowly I return to this: a tiny flicker, a spark that feels like yes: to food, to rest, to work or a walk.
That subtle recognition calms me: I’m no longer looking outside for answers or ways of being. I look within to honor my rhythm, my pace, my choices, because only I know what they feel like.
This ring is not a shield, but a compass. A reminder to look inside and align with what is true. That’s the way back home.
Navigator Ring.
Hand built with garnet and recycled sterling silver.
Cicada
I love this idea of going underground and then emerging when the time is right. We’ve been told everything must happen fast. That we must adjust quickly—to loss, to change, to new realities. That we should move on, get over it, find new things, better things. But sometimes the body doesn’t want that. It needs stillness. It needs time to re-accommodate inner paradigms. To adapt. To feel safe again.
Being happy again isn’t something I can force. Sitting with change, letting it move through me at its own pace, is not just valuable, it’s necessary and unavoidable.
I’m realizing, at this middle point in my life, that I’m not meant to cover a huge amount of ground. I’m not here to race through experiences. I’m meant to slow down. To take baby steps. To notice the tiny things. Because they are the most precious.
This is the opposite of a conquering heart. It’s an assimilating one. Life has to seep into me. And I must let it. I must pause long enough for it to reach all the parts of me that need tending. Only then can I truly carry it.
Cicada.
Handmade with amethyst and recycled sterling silver.
A piece to honor fertile silence, deep transformation, and the inner timing that can’t be rushed.
After the Burn
This is a spatial eye, the kind that sees from above. Calm, discerning, a little strange. At its center, amber burns like fire. Above it, a silver rainbow flickers with mischief. It looks like a flying saucer, or a head lost in the clouds.
The piece is marked by fire, burnt at the edges, transformed. But like a rainbow after a storm, something clear and luminous emerges. This eye sees what comes after difficulty: the truth only fire can reveal.
On the back, two plaques are stamped with AMOR FATI—the love of fate—the freedom to embrace what comes. A quirky little relic, and a reminder: when life spins fast, meet it with humor, clarity, and a wide, knowing eye.
After the Burn.
Made by hand with recycled sterling silver and amber.
Offered soon in my online shop.
Forged to See
A strand of eyes, guarded by lines of raised silver dots. Medieval, fire-forged, almost punk. Chunky but close to the skin. Like armor. Like pearls. It rests at the throat, where truth waits to be seen and spoken.
This year, my prayer has been simple: I am willing to see the world as it is. It has shaken me and freed me. What remains is this: inner truth is the real freedom.
Forged to See.
Recycled sterling silver.
Coming soon to my online shop.
Within the Fern
I shaped a rectangle of silver, a small fortress of quiet strength. Inside it, a fern spirals upward, sensing change, leaning gently. It whispers: remain flexible. Move with the wind.
This ring is a reminder: I am my own ground. Sturdy. Whole. Rooted in myself. No storm can unmake me. I bend, but I do not break. I keep growing.
Within the Fern.
Forged with recycled silver.