During the total eclipse of the sun in 1990, I went with some friends to the Tepozteco, an ancient Aztec pyramid that sits atop the karst mountains that embrace the magical town of Tepoztlán. We climbed the hundreds of steps that lead to the summit, reached the pyramid, and sat at the very edge, overlooking the valley. 

It was a sunny day, and the town beneath us was bustling with activity. Suddenly, the light began to fade and the sky gradually became darker, until the day turned to night. I don’t know how long the darkness lasted, but little by little, light returned. Roosters crowed, and it felt as if a day within a day had begun. We all were wide awake, in awe of what we had taken for granted so long: the sun rises each morning, night falls every evening. Nothing is as fixed as we think it is.

Now in my online shop.

I once held a job as the front desk manager of an art school. I enjoyed the creative environment, met interesting people, and gave it my best. One day, the owner mentioned that a neighborhood school was looking for a ceramics instructor, and asked us to spread the word. 

When I first began looking for work, I had entered the school where I was currently employed asking for just that kind of job, but had settled for the available administrative position, when I realized they had no ceramics department. 

When the owner saw my face light up, he exclaimed, NOT you! We are going to tie you to this desk so you never leave. It was meant as a joke and a compliment, but I had the sudden gut realization that if I continued to work for other people, I would never earn my living as an artist.

That moment fueled the fire that has brought me to where I am now.

Ring of Fire. Now in my online shop.

In 2003, after graduating from college in Vermont, I moved to New York City. Having spent all of my money on rent, I needed to get a job soon. Knowing that my chances of getting work as an artist were limited, I considered other options. I had worked as a waitress, and swore I would never do it again, so I had to try something new. Alone in my empty studio apartment, I browsed through the Yellow Pages and found the Antique Restoration section. I called the number on the biggest ad, and asked if they needed an assistant. The woman who answered said they did, and gave me an appointment that afternoon. 

I had never restored antiques, but as a ceramist, I repaired the pieces that broke during the firing process; and years before –when I painted– I had made my own wooden frames and was good at finishing them. I could always learn, I thought. 

I met Boris that afternoon. He was a marvelous eccentric who had exiled from Russia fifteen years earlier, and had set up his restoration shop in mid town. He had begun empirically. Materials he had used earlier were not available in America, so he tested every epoxy in the market, and quickly became an expert restoring every surface: wood, cement, porcelain, glass, canvas and leather. Legend had it that he was the best in town. A broken glass vase from Tiffany that he had restored, was valued as pristine at Sotheby’s.

My interview was interesting. No questions were asked about my skills as a restorer, instead, Boris went on about anti-semitism, the state of affairs in Israel, how the phone company “did him racket,” and would I like to start the next day? For months, I worked long days under his wing, emerging into the streets late at night, dizzy from inhaling glue fumes, exited to be living in my dream metropolis. 

Metropolis ring. Now in my online shop.

I've been drawing a lot lately. I needed to disconnect from the local news and recover my internal space of peace and magic. Let my imagination soar and visit different places. This inner freedom is my life saver. I can't function without it, and it brings order to the chaos around me. I am grateful for the ability my mind has to see images that I later fix on paper and explore further. 

What I draw almost always comes from a three dimensional image I hold in my mind, and it is not a live object –but rather– a piece of jewelry that would be too complex to make with the metalsmith techniques that I use. Sometimes my well of ideas fills up so much, that I need to capture images with greater ease, and drawing lets me do this.

I made this series using silver and gold pen on black cardboard. Most drawings measure approximately 8 by 11 inches (21 cm x 28 cm). 

Dotted Amulet Feather Gemstone Necklace. You can find it here.

Striped Amulet Feather Gemstone Necklace. Available here.

Every town in Mexico has a traditional patron saint party that is celebrated each year. I grew up in a house in the outskirts of Mexico City which was surrounded by such towns. This meant that at least four times a year, we would hear loud, traditional music in the distance. 

Our dog, Leaf (that’s what he had in his mouth when we adopted him at the shelter), went crazy every time firecrackers exploded, which was every evening of the week-long celebration. There was no way to calm him, and he was up all night howling and scratching at our doors. Fiestas del pueblo were not celebrated at our house because of this. With time, Leaf grew older and lost his hearing, and things got better for all of us. Now that I live in the middle of the city, I miss the deep festive sounds of drums echoing in the mountains beyond our backyard.