Current Work
~ Click on the photos to see the descriptions of the piece. ~
In the year 2017, I stepped away from the lecture halls, retiring from teaching. The City Colleges whispered their farewells, and I, like a wanderer, sought solace in my metal smithing studio.
The studio—a silent companion, its walls echoing with the clang of hammers past. It had witnessed my earliest creations—the hesitant strokes, the molten dreams cooled into form. But time had blurred our connection, and I needed to rekindle our bond.
So, I dusted off my tools, stations I worked at, reorganized my studio, mopped, and cleaned, then sat cross-legged on my worn-out chair. The studio welcomed me back, its scent of heated metal and possibility enveloping my senses. We became friends again. My fingers tracing the shapes of my earlier pieces, never finished, placed on my workbenches.
But friendship alone would not suffice. I hungered for mastery, for the alchemy that transforms raw materials into wearable jewelry. And so, I embarked on a journey to take new jewelry classes.
In those zoom meetings, I met kindred souls—silversmiths, lapidaries, and new friendships. They spoke in the language of bezels and cabochons, soldering torches and chasing tools. Their hands danced, coaxing metals and gemstones into harmonious union.
Each class revealed secrets—the techniques shared by jewelry experts; the skills passed down through generations. I learned to coax wire into delicate shapes, to set stones with reverence, to forge bands that cradled stories. My fingers, once chalk-stained, now bore the marks of fire and flux.
And oh, the processes! Patience became my mantra as I annealed, pickled, and polished. I watched silver transform into jewelry, saw gold surrender to the flame's heat. The studio walls absorbed my sighs, my failures, and my triumphs.
New equipment arrived—a jeweler’s arsenal. Rolling mills whispered promises of flattened metal, while flex shafts hummed with precision. I invested in loupe lenses, chasing hammers, and a magnifying visor—the tools of my craft.
And then, like a comet streaking across the night sky, a revelation—a new direction. A series of rings, a collection of pearl earrings, of hammered cuffs that embraced wrists like old friends. The stones—one-of-a-kind, each with a heartbeat of its own.
The studio walls absorbed my laughter, my late nights, my quiet conversations with my thoughts
So here I stand, a jeweler reborn. The City Colleges may have faded into memory, but my studio—the crucible of dreams—holds me close. And as I shape metal into wearable jewelry, I know—I have found my truest education in the creation of art. 🌙🔨