Updated: Jun 28
The houses in my neighborhood are 100 years old or more. They give an impression of timelessness and permanence and invulnerability. But last fall a sudden microburst erupted over all the houses on our street. Jagged pieces of ice shattered clay roof tiles, dented parked cars, sailed cleanly through attic windows and tumbled onto attic carpets, like murder weapons cast aside by gods.
There was a period of stunned silence in the days afterwards. Aged homeowners stood in their front lawns gazing up at their houses, in awe of what Mother Nature had wrought in just twenty short minutes.
But then the claims adjusters show up from Florida in their practical rental sedans, and the roofing contractors could be heard raising their telescoping ladders rung by rung, and one early spring morning two dozen workmen suddenly appeared on ten different roof tops speaking six different languages. Old tiles rained onto driveways and backyards, like old crockery flung out of windows in small-town Italian New Years Eve celebrations, and one morning while walking my dog I was amazed to see bright new copper gleaming on every rooftop.
Now a lot of people will tell you that silver and gold are where it's at, but standing on the sidewalk that day, looking up at the gleaming copper, I was completely seduced by the richness and depth of that metal. It's known for its matchless conductivity of heat and electricity, of course, but it conducts light just as well, and with it the human gaze. In that moment it wasn't just a utilitarian piece of metal, it was almost regal in its proud, gleaming defiance of rain, sun and wind. It made it hard to look away.
But wait, doesn't copper turn green and dull over time, you ask? Yes, it does. It shows its age and resilience through a kind of metamorphosis that turns its shiny surface into a mottled, textured green-blue and brown, like moss covering ancient rocks. I happen to think that's beautiful. All natural things are affected by time. Time brings about change. Change is transformative.
My new copper ON THE FRINGE earrings spring from my own evolution and this fateful neighborhood walk where an unexpected observation was the catalyst for inspiration...
These hand-hammered copper hoops are adorned with cotton yarn in earth tones inspired by my neighborhood's brick houses, sidewalks and trees... I hope you will enjoy wearing them as much as I enjoyed making them. I also hope you will enjoy witnessing their slow transformation as they too, will age with you.
As always in my process each one is handmade. Each piece is unique.
Each one a small story in this new journey...
Which one speaks to you?