You see here Ruth Kneass hard at work on the beach and then her phenomenal results—necklaces made of washed up treasures, a bit of leather, a bit of enamel, some cast driftwood here and there, and a whole lot of love. Each one of a kind piece begins with a natural form and, dare I say, improves it. They feel very right. The cast silver ones lie weighty on your necklace-place, the long driftwood ones make for excellent worry stones. And all this reminds me of one of my all time favorite poems, Sappho's fragment 145, which has been translated variously by Mary Barnard and Anne Carson:
if you are squeamish don't prod the
do not move stonesI've been hearing those lines over and over these past couple days as I comb the beach myself. The only trouble is, I've only got eyes for Ruth's shapes. So it's, "Oooo, look at this little shard, this little thorn. Maybe. I. Could. Paint a little moon. And. Then...." Ah, but she's done it so well already. It is a great pleasure to offer them to you at the shop.