Weight of a Heart
Some hearts are light.
This one is not.
I chose a red jasper heart because it already knew what I know. It carries weight. It carries history. It carries quiet violence of time pressing in, again and again, until stone learns how to endure without breaking apart. Its cracks are not accidents. They are records. Its inclusions are not flaws. They are witneses.
There are dark places in it, and there are brassy flashes of pyrite, small and defiant, like moments of light that survived when they should not have. I did not want these polished away. I wrapped them in copper allowing them to speak.
Copper is metal that remembers. Every bend, every coil, every tightening of wire stays. My hands moved slowly, because rushing would have been dishonest. I know what it means to carry heart that is heavy, heart that has lived through too much and yet still wakes each morning full of care for children who need love, safety, stability, home that does not disappear. heart that keeps choosing to hold instead of closing.
Above the jasper, I placed a glass leaf. It is fragile. It could shatter. But it hasn’t. It rests there, catching light, reminding me that tendernes does not cancel strength. instead it depends on it.
This pendant is meant to be worn close to the body, where weight can be shared. Where warmth can soften edges. Where heart can rest against another heart and remember that endurance is not loud, and love is not light, but it remains.
Handwoven copper.
Red jasper with pyrite and iron inclusions.
Glass leaf.
Made slowly in Ballarat, by someone who understands what it means to keep holding.
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