Work in progress. A sketch in metal, something I started working on at the end of last year. Copper, silver, brass.
I got inspiration from the electric wires above the railroad. But I also discovered a window theme, as one day, the pieces were framed by shadows under the roof window. I simply had no other option than to quickly arrange them for a photo shot.
The earrings and necklace that I have in mind will be different from what you see here, but let’s stay with the window theme for a while.
This photo tells me something about myself. Something I knew, but you know, sometimes you need to “put a photo” on it. This photo covers a lot of why metal and jewellery keep me in such a firm grip. My very personal credo:
- I believe in the small and tiny, in miniature things, in the delicate.
- I believe that tiny pieces are sculptures, that shapes and dimensions mean more than size and purpose.
- I believe that metal is a friend. It is hard but, when treated correctly, willing to serve us for the useful and the beautiful. It lends itself to us, lets us bend it, form it, give it volume, then melt it again, over and over.
I take this photo here as a window with a view into the core of my jewellery making.
Oh my god, how pretentious didn’t that last bit sound? And probably a bit… too much-ish…
Excuse me, señoras y señores, for this abstract statement. I honestly don’t care about any “core” here, I just love doing what I’m doing, and I believe in it.
By the way, this post was my chance to keep it very short, but I ruined it. One photo and three sentences – how difficult can it be?
So, time to wrap up. Windows are special, here are a few of the thoughts or quotes they trigger in me:
- Every language is a window to a new world, a new way of thinking.
- The eyes are the windows to our souls.
- The English word “window” comes from Old Norse, and means “wind-eye” (where the wind could pass through)
- As a child I was extremely fascinated to learn that in the past, they would sometimes paint windows on the facade, for visual symmetry and/or to cover the fact that they could not afford windows everywhere. Those are called “blind windows” in Swedish (perhaps “false windows” is the proper word en English?). I’m not sure what it was that fascinated me the most: the word itself (implying that real windows could see?), the vanity of this whole concept or that seen from far, they actually sometimes did look like real windows.
I’d love to hear what comes up in your mind when you think of windows! What intrigues you the most, looking out from inside, or vice versa? Old windows, new windows? Or, if this image triggers thoughts in other directions, I’d love to hear them too!