I scour the market place looking for little signs. Signs of beauty. Signs of life and the living. I am distracted like a magpie by the shiny beacons of hope that pull me in. Pull me away from thinking of you. I see a creation in the most tenuous of pieces but discarded silver and copper really ignite my inspiration.
I moved away from the city, relocated. I wanted to follow my dream against all odds. I moved towards the ocean to a country far away and a lot warmer than my birthplace.
It's like a calling.
You know.
Or maybe you don't.
But it was like I just had to get up and leave.
Just go.
The ocean pulled me in like I was falling into a huge dark abyss.
I spend days listening to the sea deciphering its tales of magical tapestries of pearls and mermaids, giant sea monsters and the lost souls of sailors.
I look far out to the horizon and watch the silver shards of the suns reflection play a conducted shape shift dance, frantic in the mixed up breaking waves.
I feel like I am living through a revival... a revival of my soul...
...like I am swimming home...
...always swimming home...
I sleep lightly these days. I feel the vibrations of waves and the charm of the night creatures and their nocturnal symphonies.
On my morning beachcomber, I breathe in the new day and exhale the old.
The inspiration of twisted smooth wooden washed-up tree roots fire my kiln of ideas.
I find messages in bottles from lonely souls that commit their thoughts in desperate hope cast into the sea, each message is carefully read and cast back into tides to destinations new.
Each story brings a personal vibration that I then hone and conjure a piece of jewellery from. These stories are sacred and each piece I create is in turn a story of love, bravery, truth and some of desperation and longing.
The stories of life and love and hope brought to life in a braille of silver, of copper from me to you.

Author: junkyardangel11