✨EVIDENCE OF LIFE✨
TINY IMPERFECTIONS REVEAL THE HUMAN BEHIND THE ARTWORK
Just last week, I was crafting a men’s silver chainlink bracelet during a TikTok Live when one of my viewers expressed concern over my “inefficient” fabrication technique. Apparently, I was "doing it the long, hard way". He recommended a hand tool that would make the whole process quicker and reduce inconsistencies in the links, not to mention, “save my hands” from the manual labor.
And he wasn’t wrong.
There will always be tools, techniques, and manufacturers to streamline the jewelry-making process and produce that fast-fashion flavor we have grown so accustomed to.
But my response to his unsolicited advice came instinctively and with east coast urgency:
“That’s not HOW or WHY I work.”
For me, the PROCESS is the point.
The challenge in chainmaking lies in the replication of matching links to create a pattern, while allowing for small irregularities to show evidence of the artisan's touch. A single piece of jewelry becomes a composition of multiple one-of-a-kinds that tell an irreplicable story.
If perfection was the objective, I would be outsourcing my designs to a jewelry house in Los Angeles to copy/paste my prototypes into uniform multIples. No shade to jewelers who use this process— it is absolutely necessary to scale a jewelry brand. But somewhere inside all that efficiency, the thing I love and respect most about handcrafted jewelry starts to diminish. The work slowly shifts from ‘art’ into ‘merchandise’.
You have to flirt with precision.
But precision and perfection are not the same thing. Every link must be structurally sound, wearable, and fluid enough to move as part of the whole. And while I will never compromise the durability or functionality of my work, aesthetically, I choose to celebrate the subtle variations of handmade. That is where the character of this kind of jewelry resides.
Do my hands get sore? Sure. Every artisan experiences this. I’d venture to guess it’s a badge of honor for most, like sore muscles after a heavy lift, or a sunburn after an epic beach vacation.
Worth it? Without a doubt.
I'm sure my viewer was probably just trying to help.
And yes, there are circumstances when speed and efficiency become a greater priority, (like filling a bulk wholesale order, for example). But most of the time, I am not trying to manufacture an object as efficiently as possible. I am just making art.
Imagine telling a painter that a stencil would make their brushstrokes more consistent.
The beauty of chainmaking is that every link can be formed to the same size and shape, yet minute differences inevitably remain: variations in the depth of a hammer mark, subtle shifts in the angle of a filed edge, or a stubborn scratch that survives the final polish.
We come to cherish these characteristics when we focus on the reason behind their existence— the awe-inspiring evidence of the human hand.
The evidence of life.
Artists have a responsibility to communicate the value of this evidence.
The trace of the hand, the choices made, the labor invested, the proof that someone breathed life into the work.
There is beauty and brilliance in rudimentary techniques when they accomplish exactly what they are meant to do. A jeweler’s vision, a few simple hand tools, a torch, and a little elbow grease are enough to bring an object to life— and, in doing so, preserve a moment in history in wearable form.
Every jeweler has the right to choose their own process. Mine happens to leave a little evidence behind.
And those tiny inconsistencies? Free of charge.