I once was a painter. I would fill the edges and backgrounds of figurative works with plentiful plantlife. The stories that I tell myself burgeon forth with herbs, yarrow, violets and flowers aplenty. The poems and plays that I hold most dear describe the natural world, moon and vine, tree and crawling thing. The natural world abounds and spills from my heart. When I started doing metalwork I realized all those flowers and leaves could shine as pieces of jewelry, a celebration of nature’s most beautiful forms.
