Roughly one year ago, immediately after a very trying spate of eclipses, I had a day which nearly scud-missiled my faith in the universe. And yet, I also had some ever so slightly subconscious sense, that perhaps everything was as it should be, although perhaps not as i would have liked it to be.
Rather than go into the gory details, let’s just say that that the events of the eclipse (as they so often are) were a bit late to the threshold. I survived the day of the actual eclipse and breathed a sigh of relief. Just a few days later, an incredibly rainy evening took an unexpected turn and my supposed victory over the eclipse’s energies instead manifested a spectacular defeat that had been many years coming.
On that same night, I met a mirror who had been experiencing very similar swings and revelations. My plight was nearly too embarrassing to discuss with those closest to me because all had seen it coming. But this stranger, similarly blinded by his own malfeasances, did not judge, did relate, and not only empathized but sympathized! I know therapy plays a very important role in the lives of many people in this crazy city, but I still maintain there is nothing like synchronistic commiseration.
So, this man and I became a real life Griffin and Sabine, exchanging emails that would make Baudelaire look like a Katy Perry California sunshine girl, until our Dickensian correspondence eventually slowed – our pain subsiding. We would check in from time to time, but the need to be healed and heard had receded at least into remission.
Until… one day I receive an email inquiring into an engagement ring.
The ring should suit a Mongolian woman courted by a Viking man, one Scorpio, one Capricorn, both beyond the pale verdant of spring in years but maintaining the gleeful mischievousness of childhood, both of similar occupational swaggers and political hats. Might I be able to fashion such a ring as to befit such a proposal? Not only might I, but please please can I?! So excited.
To the sketch board.
To the diamond merchants.
To the gold store. (Yes, there really is a gold store.)
To the jeweler’s bench.
To the setter.
To the grumpy hand engraver who said what I had in mind wouldn’t work and who ultimately may have been right. (Don’t worry, the runes will reappear on the wedding bands, stay tuned.)
And finally, back home to polish.
And at last.
We are left with this:
And not just this, but also, with a yes. He was so anxious to get the ring that I didn’t have time to snap a photo that does it justice, but the ring had a much more important obligation than to sit around and pose for me.
So so happy for my friend.
The very belated conclusion to a tumultuous eclipse season has finally set upon us.
My most enthusiastic congratulations to you and to many ecstatic years!
Think back to the first time that you saw a magic trick performed. The first time a relative told you to “Pick a card, any card,” and you did. And then they opened up the deck, and asked you to replace the card. You did, not even noticing that they could see that the queen of hearts was quite clearly visible as the card that would precede yours in the refashioned deck. They said some magic words, danced around, sprinkled magic fairy dust if you were lucky, wrinkled their brow and then poof! Pulled out your card. You were delighted and amazed. Do it again! Do it again! Not right now, sweetheart, they would say, if you were lucky, for they knew that you would soon learn the trick and thus dispel the magic.
Sleight of Hand
When I first learned to make jewelry, each new lesson was magic. I remember staring at stone settings and just marvelling in the impossibility of them. After a time, the wonderment wears off and becomes a craft for the practitioner. But every once in a while, you get to partake in the joy of a new initiate as they discover the wonders of transmutation.
I had the great fortune of just such an experience about a month ago when a long lost friend from San Francisco showed up at my door with a silver dollar, gifted to him by his grandfather and minted in the silver mine where his grandfather had toiled. The occasion? His sister’s thirtieth birthday celebration. The mission? To transform it into a piece of jewelry.
Dali would be proud
We kicked off the morning with a breakfast at Egg here in Williamsburg. My friend is an affirmed foodie. His Facebook posts might actually transmit caloric intake, and if not, they certainly nourish the soul as well as the imagination. And so, i figured a breakfast haunt that usually serves as host to all the celebrity chef interviews in the neighborhood might serve as fitting inspiration for our endeavor. Besides, they have brown paper tablecloths and crayons. Perfect for breakfast scribbles that mature into afternoon masterpieces.
Wire in the Kitchen
His sister, as it turns out, is a veterinarian with a dog named Po who has a favorite sock monkey that goes by the name of Monkey. (Look out for the Adventure of Monkey and Po at a comic book store near you one day in the joyful future.)
Over Eggs Rothko and cheese grits and lavender crayons, we pondered the possibilities of earrings, a necklace, perhaps a charm, nothing too terribly complicated. But I’m a commensurate overachiever and once the notion of a charm popped up, I couldn’t resist the idea of a charm bracelet. Then the metaphors of links, family links, chains… We were going to make chain. From a coin. Which meant wire. From a coin. And then charms. And then a clasp. We were going to do it all, and we were going to do it by the time my friend’s train left for New Jersey that night.
Enter the Magicians!!!
My friend proved a truly wonderful apprentice. Monkey and Po wonderful muses. The fine silver of the coin, a lovingly forgiving medium for crafting wire without too many annealings or cracklings. The biggest challenge we faced was the fact that my large torches were all at the store rather than my in-house studio. (Yes, that is indeed a refrigerator in the wire-pulling photo — we accomplished this feat in my kitchen!)
Puppy Dog Tales
But I shall now quiet my words and leave you to assess, the Wonderful Adventures in Transmogrification of Monkey and Po.
The Adventures of Monkey and Po Charm Bracelet
Having cast my first horoscope when I was five years old and having received my first deck of Tarot cards when I was ten, not to mention having spent a near lifetime having been fascinated by numbers and their significance as they appear in daily life in everything from change at the deli to the time stamp on an email, I can safely say that I have had a fair amount of experience with divination. And though this is odd for someone who practices astrology as an occupation to admit, I often have very mixed feelings about it. More often than not, it is our inability to remember the future which enables us to get on with our day to day lives. I once had a tarot reading wherein the reader rather matter of factly told me that my then partner and I would nearly break up, then mend things and come together in celebration, and then six months later part ways for good. I fought this prediction with every ounce of my soul and spirit and yet indeed, it did come to pass. Though that reading has haunted me, and the experience I had with it and one other during the same time frame has, I believe, brought me to become a much more conscientious practitioner. I do believe divination can be quite useful, but I believe that it requires a proper framework. At its best, it can function much like work with a therapist, giving the subject a structure within which to focus on and improve various aspects of his or her life as well as a magical lens with which to shed light on oft repeating patterns that in the forest of life are frequently too difficult to discern.
It may be for this reason that I prefer astrology to Tarot. For some reason, I find it much easier to sit down constructively to discuss a pluto transit than to try to soothe someone’s fears about pulling the Death card or the Devil card. Even when reading for myself, though I know very well that the Death card contains within it the seeds of renewal and that the couple in the Devil card have the very clearly illustrated ability to simply lift the chains from themselves and run to freedom, the dark images nonetheless play upon our subconscious in a way that I fear creates fear rather than the intention to embrace and embark upon the necessary change. I much prefer being able to launch into my story of Pluto as a black leather clad whip-wielding dominatrix who yes, demands a sacrifice be set upon her altar, but who also willfully participates with the subject to rebuild that which has been burnt down — purposeful and swift destruction mixed with precise and life-changing construction.
Astrology also carries with it one distinct advantage over most other forms of divination. Whereas most psychics and readers will tell you that timing is almost always the most difficult thing to get right, astrology makes timing its focus. Let’s say, for example, that a person is facing a particularly difficult Neptune/Moon transit wherein they can trust nothing that their heart tells them and wherein they may be subject to delusional tendencies. I can counsel them to use Neptune’s power to bring them closer to realizing that which they truly dream of whilst at the same time warning them of the potential for characters to manifest who are not what they seem. And then I can give them a date in the future at which to reassess their decisions over that time period. In this way, they can potentially save themselves from taking years to learn a lesson that they can, with astrology’s assistance, more efficiently learn in six months. Or, if no lesson is to be learned, they can have some sense of when they can relax and let their guard down!
The other thing I love about astrology is that it demonstrates how all of us — rich, poor, single, married, free, imprisoned, healthy, ailing — we all go through the same life challenges energetically at various times in our lives. No one is immune, and this is one of the many things that connects us all as one. The Divine. A Divine Nation of Beings.
And with that I will leave you to peruse my spring offering — a group of photos wonderfully shot by Daria Skripka and modeled by Lana Winter.
Fire Opal Pendant
Topaz Cathedral Ring
Ruby Dagger Earrings and Amazonian Petal Necklace
Topaz Temezcal Pendant
Musing with Gold Feathers
Citrine Scepter Pendant
Matched sets aren’t usually my thing… I love the mix and match, the unexpected, Chinese New Year in Paris, Mayan End Date on a houseboat in New Orleans, Doc Martens and Givenchy. BUT today was one of those days when I experienced both pleasure and gratitude as a result of the oneness of creation. Allow me to back up.
Roughly four months ago, for the first time in my life, I began to experience somewhat irritating back pain. i am a recovering yoga addict with an admitted addiction to high heels and large bags, but even my now honed down diet of pilates and sun salutations keeps my core pretty powerful. And my bench chair is one of those ergonomically but not comfortable luxe designs guaranteed to make you sit like you have a nazi PE instructor aiming a gun at your head. Back problems? Really? Yeah. Really. About three weeks ago, the problems crescendoed to the point that I could not sleep through the night. I had a hot water bottle on the area 10-15 hours a day. I would wake up at 3 in the morning gasping for air and crying because the pain was unbearable. It clicked if I moved. Awful horrible terrible. I can not even convey.
So did I see a doctor? Of course not! A doctor would just want to cut me open. Or so I think. In my potentially deluded but nonetheless very rigorous philosophy regarding backs and the western medical profession.
But… the day after it first got so overwhelming that I couldn’t sleep through the night, I was to have lunch with an old colleague of mine. I hadn’t seen this man in 3 years. While at lunch, he casually mentions that should I have any chiropractic needs, he had a friend who was coming into town who was an incredible healer.
If you’ve read even one of my posts, you know I’m a sucker for all things metaphysical and the coincidence of my back, the lunch, the healer, the suggestion despite my lack of complaining… sign me up.
So, this morning, my long-awaited and anticipated appointment arrives. I enter the room and try to explain something or other about perhaps it is the psoas … the doctor smiles and asks me to lie down. Sure – that’s in there, but that’s not the problem. Let’s see what is. And then the download started. He begins to recount to me, the first time my heart was broken. The most recent time my heart was broken. Specific fears engulfing me. The age at which I started to require glasses. The things he “revealed” to me were on occasion so personal and specific that they made me shudder. And smile. He knew. And if he could know these things, then he could certainly fix my back! That’s a much less impressive feat!
I also took no small pleasure in the fact that he considered my career change from credit derivatives trader to astrologer/jeweler to be an instance of my higher self intervening so that I could get to the real work. Gold star. Thank you. I shall wear it with pride and refuse to shower and wash it away for as long as possible without alienating my loved ones.
My back feels wonderful at the moment. I suppose only time will tell. But synchronicity brought me to him. Should any of you reading this have want of his contact info, please write and I shall send it. He says the universe delivers to him those people that he can help. I’ll leave it at that.
So matched sets shall follow shortly. Within the week. In the mean time, I hope that 1000 words is worth a picture.
Pluto-Pacifying Sun-Enhancing Amulet
One thing that I have always hated about astrology (when it is practiced irresponsibly) is its power to disempower the person whose chart is being read. I can remember hearing about some dreaded two and a half year time period called the “Saturn Return” during which one’s world was basically guaranteed to crash and burn, nothing would go smoothly, vitriol would run like water, love would dissolve, poverty would ensue, and if you were lucky, you’d emerge into your 30s naked and shivering but not so shaken as to be unable to rebuild. At the time, I was spending a fair amount of my post-Goldman Sachs hanging out in an East Village witchcraft store with friends, so I couldn’t file the usual complaint of – “Did I really just pay someone to tell me that?” We were all young enough not to have gone through said return ourselves and were basically beholden to common lore and a few old school aging mages who took some small pleasure in scaring the younguns on occasion. But, my experience notwithstanding, fear tactics are incredibly common. And, in reality, they build credibility, because difficult natal formations and difficult transits are the very reason TO study astrology or have someone study it for you. If you don’t turn your obstacles and crises into opportunities and gifts, then in all likelihood, they will remain just that. Yet, to explain to someone that love or money will be one of their greater challenges in life but as a result of that, will ultimately become their greatest achievement and greatest demonstration of mastery and excellence…. That’s a little different than telling someone they’re likely to end up a spinster or a pauper, no?
So… To bring this back to jewelry… I found myself giving an interview the other day and the interviewer asked me to describe the connection between astrology and jewelry. To be honest, I had to think. I’d never really questioned it before – I happen to love both of them and astrology taps into the resources of my slightly under-exercised left brain (which used to be my slightly over-exercised left brain in my old life) and jewelry taps into my previously under-exercised right brain while also providing a meditative practice which helps to form a bridge between both hemispheres. I’m constantly trying to implement balance between the two, and this dual occupation provides me with my current solution. But that wasn’t a sexy enough answer for a magazine, so I thought about it a bit more…
And then, it grew crystal clear.
Over the years, before I made jewelry, I grew fascinated with its ability to make me feel empowered. I remember struggling a bit at the age of 21 or 22 with how to present myself in such a manner that I could go to work (with a bunch of 30-40 year old men with MBAs and pin-striped suits who lived in Connecticut), feel like myself, not be dressed inappropriately, and still feel powerful. Platform shoes became my friend VERY quickly. Oh how different the world looks when you have a bird’s eye view – but equally important were my “collars”. I started out with about six or seven turquoise beaded necklaces that I would coil and pile up to create a sheath of protection, healing and power. Then, for variety, I made myself a ruby stack, an emerald stack, and a sapphire stack. I wore rubies on days that I needed to make money, turquoise on days when I was feeling picked on, emeralds if I had a date, and sapphires if I was casting spells. Because each stack consisted of 6 or 7 necklaces, and because I was going to yoga pretty much every day (god bless my younger self, where is she) – every morning started with the ritual of putting on the necklaces, every post-work work out started with taking off the necklaces, every post-work out recostuming started with putting on the necklaces, and every day before bed, inebriated or not, off come the necklaces. Very hard to sleep with that many carats wound round ones neck.
But, the point remains – I was drawn to jewelry because it empowered me.
And, the same goes for astrology. I have a problem-solver’s mind. I got a degree in theoretical mathematics from an Ivy League university which prepares me to do absolutely nothing in the real world EXCEPT for solve problems. Any problem. To my mind, that’s the whole point of theoretical math.
So astrology. My chart has some issues. Some very pointed ones. So let’s go ahead and just call them problems. Everyone’s does. There must be a solution, yes?
Let’s just say that you’re reading this and thinking that I’m crazy – totally your right. I’m no missionary. But allow me to pose this question to the skeptics — do you agree that if you wore something which every day reminded you of your intention to change a certain aspect of your self or your life, that you might be more likely to do so? You could hang a to-do list around your neck, or, you could put an amethyst on your ring finger or a fire opal on your heart.
I’ve spent the past week fairly immersed in these issues because I have a client whose astrological chart syncs up perfectly with the pluto/uranus square of 2012. Maybe I will allow myself to geek out a bit in another post about the significance of this formation, but for now, let’s just say that he finds himself in the throes of a violent battle between a leather clad dominatrix well-versed in alchemy and a lightning-wielding alien who has both teleportation and invisibility and tricksterism as personal powers. He wanted a bit of assistance.
The pendant that resulted draws on metals which elevate the personal planets of his which may find themselves quivering in insignificance, gems which empower both the planets and the signs which will assist him in finding his true path, and the design relies upon geometric codes which further the two aforementioned goals. And it will be consecrated under the aquarian new moon/ water dragon new year energy which culminates at 2:13 am tomorrow morning.
Though I think on occasion the universe does shell out more than any one individual can be expected to take, I believe that its intention is to instruct us through adversity. Just as pediatricians occasionally dose children with too many vaccinations at one time, sometimes the universe gives us more than we can handle — all to the end of making us impervious to defeat. So with vaccinations, we can space them out, bolster our immune systems, etc. With planetary transits, perhaps a prescription of stones, metals, geometry and personal intent can provide some fortitude.
At the very least, I believe it does.
I remember the first time I learned of the Mayan 2012 end date. I was 5 years old — possibly 6 — and riding in the passenger seat of my parents’ car while my mother attempted to explain to me some of the many things that people believe. I think the conversation arose because I was trying to understand why, at the Passover sedar my parents’ friends had hosted the week earlier, the nun seated across from me had flipped out upon hearing that matzoh ball soup contained chicken fat. (The sedar had been on a Friday — no meat on Fridays). My mother, in her attempts to explain the wide-rangingness of the world’s beliefs managed to cover everything from Jesus to reincarnation to Ouija boards to, apparently — as the memory is crystal clear for me – the Mayan calendar. I remember thinking at the time that it was amazingly cool that i would actually be alive to find out (well… at least alive up until the moment of truth) whether or not the ancient people had been correct. I also remember thinking that it seemed impossibly far away as by that time I would be an unfathomable 37 years old. And so, here we are. 2012.
My fascination with both the Mayans and the significance of 2012 has stood the test of the last three decades. I shamelessly adore all things Yucatan, Oracular and Transcendental, and I even went so far as to write, stage and produce a play on the subject with a friend of mine several years back. As the time draws nearer, I find it impossible to maintain the fascination without appending an intention of responsible high-mindedness. As I type this, I am watching runners in shorts and tank tops jog across the Williamsburg Bridge. My play’s silly joke about the Rockefeller Christmas tree being replaced with a palm tree is starting to seem a bit too prophetic. Just today, someone mentioned to me that perhaps we are now living in the golden age of global warming – the age of warmth and sunshine preceding the coming ice age. And just a week ago, another friend introduced me to a comedic skit about how all the “save the world” stuff would be more aptly titled “save us”. Fair enough. Mama earth is going to be just fine, but….
But, I digress. This is a blog primarily about jewelry and I promise to bring this post back to that. After one more small history lesson.
Two years ago, (and two weeks ago as well), I went to Tulum, quite possibly my favorite place on the planet, for New Years. The most recent trip had more to do with mezcal than temazcal, but the trip two years ago did a fairly respectable job of melding the two. A temazcal is a traditional pre-hispanic sweat lodge intended to heal both physical and spiritual ills. Local shamans guide participants (read: encourage them to the limits of that which their bodies can withstand but not beyond) through thirteen “gates” each guarded by the ancestral grandmothers. Each new door is greeted with the introduction of new coals into the central fire. Before the ceremony, participants join in a circle and share their hopes and fears and prayers. Regardless of the fact that Tulum at New Years has become something of a Mecca for lower Manhattan’s 1%, stripped down to nearly nothing and faced with 2-3 hours of soul-quaking heat, humanity rises to the top like firescale on silver, or for you non-metal geeks out there, dumplings in hot oil.
At the time, I was nearing the end of my first year as a regular person — by regular, I mean someone contending with how to make a living without a Wall Street job. I was throwing myself heart and soul into a relationship that was perhaps not meant to be, and I was torn between a fierce faith that I was following the only possible right path for me and a dreaded fear that I was whirling head first into a tailspin of destruction with what had otherwise been a rather promising early start in life. (I have always had a taste for the dramatic.) BUT the point is, that in this temazcal, I found myself surrounded by successful married people with children, many of which were living out creative dreams. Stripped down to bathing suits and towels and sweating beneath an almost gruesomely pregnant full and blue moon, however, we all came to know each other as people — people whom we did not only not envy, but whom we prayed for and empathized with and supported. One woman had nearly died the week before in a car accident with her youngest son, just as she was contemplating divorce. Another had lost touch with her only daughter on account of a late in life realization of her own sexual orientation. A child, amongst us, prayed for his parents to reconcile. Infertility, illness, loneliness – in short, every ill but poverty made its way into the circle and we all endeavoured (with the shamans and grandmothers) to show them the door.
Thirteen gates. Thirteen sets of coals. We made it through nine. Four remained. Those four haunt me to this day.
And so it was that I fashioned the topaz temazcal pendant. It was and is my hope that by wearing this pendant, the owner can rise on an honorary basis through the thirteen gates of ascension.
I was reminded today that in Mayan Numerals, the year 2012 is 126.96.36.199.0.
Just one more reason that I’ll be hanging this motif around my neck as often as possible this year.
Happy New Year — and I mean that.
Let’s opt for Transcendental over Cataclysmic.
Not ready to leave this planet to the algae just yet.
I’ve always loved dismantling the mysteries of how things are made — so much so that as a child, “Ree Ree do” (Ree Ree was my half-baked attempt to pronounce my own name) became something of a mantra. Mom making crostoli cookies for Christmas? Ree Ree do. Grandmother knitting sweaters for my dolls? Ree Ree do. Grandmother helping mother remember how to cast on stitches to knit sweaters for dolls? Ree Ree do. Dad picking stocks? Ree Ree do. You get the idea. In fact the phenomenon got so bad that one year, when my mother was on the phone and my Christmas dress was approximately 20 minutes away from being finished (which in my brain meant that Christmas and my stocking were about 20 minutes away from arriving), I decided to finish it myself — all that was missing were the button holes. Easy. Scissors make holes. I could make holes. Needless to say, Christmas did not arrive early that year. I think my mother had to start a whole new dress by the time I was finished.
In any event, I still love learning how to make things, and I think it’s a bit of a universal human drive even today in this world of magical pancake mixes and cars so complicated one requires an aeronautical engineering degree in order to be able to change the oil. And so, it is in this vein that I share with you the path a sheet of silver and a stone take on their way to becoming a pendant.
i can not convey the extent of my love for graph paper
clue... this will become something akin to this...
silver...post flux...post solder...post flame...
a mere stone set and polish away...
no pain, no gain... (to be fair, it was my intern becky's thumb that was sacrificed, so she deserves the kharmic credit)
at long last... pyramid amulet arrives
Despite my love for divination and the magical, I harbor a certain disinclination towards the traditional Tarot Deck. A quick glance through the cards leads one to surmise that roughly 28/78 cards have decidedly negative imagery, the kind that can at a glance cast fear into the heart of the even virgin readee who knows nothing of the symbolic and numerological implications of the minor or major arcana. A giant heart brutally pierced by three swords leaves little room for constructive imagination. These statistics (a little over 1/3) might not be so bad were it not for the fact that once one includes the potential for reversed cards (nearly all of which carry some kind of negative message), the purely probabilistic likelihood of getting a negative reading skyrockets to 2/3! Like most people, I tend to turn towards divination when my mind is ill at ease rather than well at ease, so these odds suggest that tarot might not be the best place to turn for inspiration on those gloomy mornings when movies and bed sound like a wondrous alternative to daily life.
And so, it was with great enthusiasm that upon encountering the Medicine Deck, I embraced it as a much more positive alternative. The Medicine Deck hails from Native American culture wherein shamans frequently descend into trance and are visited by animal spirits thought to carry energetic counsel. The appearance of a butterfly, for example, might encourage an embrace of transformation; the deer, a necessity for gentleness and ease.
I also responded strongly to it because years ago, on safari in Kenya, I found myself relating emotionally to the various animals in just this way. Vegetarian since the age of ten, I went with little interest in the famed big cats and an absolute terror that I might witness a kill. I longed to see giraffes and elephants, zebra and water buffalo, kudu and wildebeest. Once there, though, I shocked myself by feeling sympathy for the mother lion who looked hungry and tired as she waited patiently with hopes of feeding her cubs. Like most things in life, nature is neither black nor white but rather an all encompassing cloak of complex charcoal grey smudged to vibrancy with highlights and shadows.
Giraffe Dog Tag
Thus was born the safari bracelet, the animal totem pendants, and my giraffe dog tag. I wear them whenever I feel the need to invoke the power of species far wiser about the rhythms of life and death than our own.
On days when I really need to invoke the entire animal kingdom and subtlety is of no concern, I can always pull out the belt.
ceci est un quasicrystal
Last month, an Israeli scientist won the Nobel Prize for Chemistry for demonstrating that the very geometric patterns medieval Islamic artists used to adorn their temples, accurately depict the atomic structure of quasicrystals. If I had some kind of personal Kelvin scale for exactly how cool I find this to be, the reading would be decidedly sub-zero. Not only does this suggest that the mystics of ages past and present managed to intuit something about the nature of reality and the universe without any kind of high tech instruments, but in some small subtextual way I think it also shows the potential for shared truths amongst the world’s various religions, and possibly a hint of light at the end of the tunnel for humanity one day managing to, at the very least, agree to disagree respectfully.
Art, math and mysticism figure amongst my greatest fascinations and loves in this life. Yes — Math. Really. Math possibly first and foremost – I’ve been obsessed since I was a child. Were it not for the fact that I was still harboring some adolescent issues about what it meant to be cool or not cool when I last found myself in a University level math department, who knows… I might be pondering number theory at Berkeley instead of toiling away with hammers and anvils, but no matter, the love lives on. Once upon a time I made clothing in my spare time, now I take pleasure in deriving the formula for the circumference of an ellipse on the subway. Just one of my particular quirks.
In honor of this discovery, I dedicate two pieces as a tribute to all of the wondrous geometricians and mystics of times past. I’d also like to thank the inventor of graph paper for making my layout job infinitely simpler.
Rutilated Quartz Pendant