Title:
When Color Becomes a Question
Subtitle:
How one cloisonné pendant became a conversation between light, memory, and courage.
Hero Image:
→ Photo of a specific cloisonné piece
When Color Becomes a Question
Subtitle:
How one cloisonné pendant became a conversation between light, memory, and courage.
Hero Image:
→ Photo of a specific cloisonné piece
Opening Story
Sometimes a new piece doesn’t start with a design.
It starts with a feeling you can’t quite name.
This pendant began on a day when I was tired of repeating myself. My hands knew how to make “good” enamel, but a quieter part of me was asking for something different. I didn’t know what that “something” was yet—only that I didn’t want to keep making the same safe decisions with color and line.
So instead of asking, “What will people like?”
I began asking, “What am I honestly curious about right now?”
Sometimes a new piece doesn’t start with a design.
It starts with a feeling you can’t quite name.
This pendant began on a day when I was tired of repeating myself. My hands knew how to make “good” enamel, but a quieter part of me was asking for something different. I didn’t know what that “something” was yet—only that I didn’t want to keep making the same safe decisions with color and line.
So instead of asking, “What will people like?”
I began asking, “What am I honestly curious about right now?”
What this piece is really aboutOn the surface, this is a small cloisonné pendant: curves, lines, a few shapes layered in transparent color.
But underneath, it’s about learning to trust my own questions.
But underneath, it’s about learning to trust my own questions.
- I let one color flow into another instead of keeping everything neat and separated.
- I allowed myself to repeat shapes in a way that felt musical, not mechanical.
- I stopped trying to force a story and started letting one emerge.
What I was exploringWith this pendant, I was exploring three things:
They’re not about getting the “right answer.”
They’re about staying in relationship with the piece as it evolves.
- Light – How far could I push transparency and layering before the piece became muddy instead of luminous?
- Movement – Could the lines and shapes suggest motion without becoming chaotic?
- Feeling – Could I stay connected to my own inner questions long enough to let them guide the design?
They’re not about getting the “right answer.”
They’re about staying in relationship with the piece as it evolves.
What surprised meWhat surprised me most was how much freedom I felt once I stopped trying to make something impressive.
When I gave myself permission to explore instead of perform, three things happened:
When I gave myself permission to explore instead of perform, three things happened:
- I was less afraid of making “mistakes.”
- I noticed more: tiny changes in color, edge softness, reflections in the silver.
- I felt more connected to the finished piece—because it came from my own curiosity, not from someone else’s expectations.
For enamelists and studentsIf you enamel, you know how easy it is to get stuck in “Am I doing it right?”
In my own studio practice, I try to pair the outer game (good technique) with the inner game (good questions):
In my own studio practice, I try to pair the outer game (good technique) with the inner game (good questions):
- Outer game: learning how colors layer, how much heat an enamel can take, how to clean, counter-enamel, and finish.
- Inner game: asking, “What do I want to explore today?” and “What might happen if…?”
Want to go deeper?If this piece and story resonate with you, there are a few ways to explore further:
[See Available Jewelry →]
- For enamel students:
Learn how I “practice to improve” both technique and design inside the Enamel Confidence programs. - For collectors:
Explore my current collection of cloisonné jewelry and see what stories speak to you.
[See Available Jewelry →]
