DOSSIER | jewelry as an anchor

I have always saved words.

Fortunes from cookies. Notes tucked into drawers. Lines from books copied onto scraps of paper. Words written on my hand so I would not forget them before the day was over.

Some stayed with me for an afternoon. Others followed me for years.

I have worn words on shirts. I have tattooed meaningful things onto my skin. I have kept certain phrases where I could see them because seeing them helped me remember something I already knew but could easily lose when life got loud.

Words have always felt like more than letters strung together to me.

One word can feel like permission.
A phrase can bring you back to yourself.
A lyric can take you to another place and time before the song has even finished its first line.
An inside joke can hold years of friendship in only a few words.
Words can interrupt a thought. Steady a decision. Make us laugh. Help us grieve. Remind us who we are, who we love, and what we do not want to forget.

When jewelry became my medium, it was the obvious place to hold them.

Long before I had language for any of this, I made pieces that carried reminders. Words. Dates. Initials. Names. Quotes. Song lyrics. Tiny messages that might mean very little to anyone else, but everything to the person wearing them.

The jewelry was beautiful, but beauty was never the whole point.
The point was what it carried.

A necklace could hold the name of someone you missed.
A ring could remind you of a promise you made to yourself.
A bracelet could carry a phrase that helped you through a hard time.
A gift could hold an inside joke that makes someone laugh the moment they open it.

The same few words can mean something completely different depending on who chose them, who gave them, and the story behind them.

That is the power of language.

Sometimes it is one word.
Sometimes it is several words strung together in exactly the right order.

Jewelry gives those words a place to live.

It stays close to the body. You feel the ring as your hand moves. You catch the necklace in the mirror. Your fingers find the pendant without thinking.

The reminder becomes physical.

It is there while you make breakfast, answer emails, sit in traffic, hold someone’s hand, make a hard choice, laugh with a friend, or begin again.

The jewelry does not create the meaning.
You do.

Words are containers for power.
You choose what kind of power they carry.
joyce meyer

what I'm loving

While recovering from major surgery, I started researching less traditional ways to organize my closet. Because I cannot, for the life of me, hang my clothes back up. Instead, they end up in massive piles on "the chair," the floor, and any other open space. So I built a system around the way I actually live. I use bins for shirts and pants. An over-the-door shoe organizer holds sweatshirts and sweaters. Hooks hold bras and skirts. The only things left on hangers are dresses and shirts that wrinkle. It may not look like the closet organization photos I have saved on Pinterest, but it works for me. The best system is not always the prettiest or most traditional one, it's the one that asks less of you.

in the studio

Every piece of personalized jewelry begins with a question:

What do you want it to hold?

It might be your word. A name. A date. A few words from a favorite song. Something funny your best friend always says. A private message meant for one person alone.

This is the part I still love most.
The moment a piece stops being jewelry and begins carrying a story.

Your story.

Pay attention to the words you keep.

The ones you write down. Repeat. Save. Send to a friend. Underline in a book. Sing louder than the rest of the song.

They may be trying to remind you of something.

And sometimes, words this meaningful deserve a place where they can stay close.