It was only ever about the gems.
Gemstones and crystals directly from the ground, as unadulterated as possible. The wilder and more natural the better. Curiosities to imbue magic and delight. The ancient human urge to adorn, transform and grow. To alchemise.
Jewellery handmade on the Fulham road in Chelsea, London.
I often wonder what it is exactly that makes us almost universally passionate about gems. Perhaps because when we behold one we know we are in the presence of something unfathomably ancient, aeons in the making. More ancient than our flickering minds can conceive of. Perhaps it is because they make us aspire to the stone’s endless destiny, passing from one generation to another. That is no small thing to wish for. A slice of immortality on loan from a gem. However unattainable that stone may be; to wish for it is so human.
We evolved to aspire, to build, to accumulate. A precious stone bestowed to enhance the beauty of the beloved. Isn't that the meaning of adornment? As to acknowledge both her frailty, and the nobility of that frailty. We announce to the darkness that we will not be diminished by the brevity of our lives. That we will not be made less by it.
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