One of one, every time. Each stone below was found on the shoreline, then shaped, sanded and drilled by hand. Every piece on this page has already found its home — they stay here so you can see the work.
The Pitted Stone
This stone arrived at my work bench with its story written — deep, worn craters pitted by the ocean into pale blue-grey stone - proof of years in the Atlantic. The work here was knowing what not to touch. I kept every hollow, enhanced some, shaped and sanded around any deformations, drilled the stone by hand, and hung it on a silver plated stainless steel chain through a silver finding ring set into the drilled hole. Bold up close, quiet from a distance, and easy with everything from a linen shirt to a worn-in knit. There is one of this stone. When it finds its person, there is not another.
— This piece has found its home.
The Oval
This one is smooth all the way through — an oval of soft taupe and grey, gently marbled, the kind of surface your thumb keeps finding. I shaped and sanded it by hand until it felt finished, drilled the stone, and hung it on a silver plated stainless steel chain through a silver finding ring set into the drilled hole. It goes with everything you already wear, and it doesn't ask for attention to earn it. There is one of this stone. When it finds its person, there is not another.
— This piece has found its home.
The Banded Stone
Deep brown-black stone, cut through with cream banding — like tide lines, like wood grain, no two lines alike. I shaped it into a rounded square and kept the surface glossy, sanding and finishing it by hand. Then I drilled the stone and hung it on a silver plated stainless steel chain through a silver finding ring set into the drilled hole. From across a room it reads bold; up close, it is all stone. There is one of this stone. When it finds its person, there is not another.
— This piece has found its home.
Pyrite, Before and After
This round grey and terracotta coloured stone came off the shoreline at my home in Newfoundland with raw pyrite glittering beside it — so that is how I photographed it, gathered together before and after in one frame. The finished piece I shaped and sanded by hand, drilled the stone, and hung it on a silver plated stainless steel chain through a silver finding ring set into the drilled hole. There is one of this stone. When it finds its person, there is not another.
— This piece has found its home.
The Blue Marbled Stone
Blue-grey marbling swirled through a smooth round stone, with fine tan veining running through it — held up to the light, it looks like weather moving over water. The finished piece hangs as one complete necklace: the stone drilled by hand, a silver finding ring set into the drilled hole, and a silver plated stainless steel chain in a full, unbroken loop. Soft in colour, certain in shape. There is one of this stone, and there will not be another like it.
— This piece has found its home.
The Banded Wedge
This one hangs long. A wide, tapering stone with fine black striations running through pale grey — like wood grain, like handwriting. I shaped and sanded it by hand, keeping its wide, tapering form, drilled it by hand, and hung it vertically — up and down — on a silver plated stainless steel chain through a silver finding ring set into the drilled hole, so it hangs straight down the chest like a small landscape. There is one of this stone. When it finds its person, there is not another.
— This piece has found its home.
The Pale Wedge
The quietest piece in the set. A pale, wide wedge of stone, almost white, with the faintest veining under a smooth surface. I finished it simply — shaped and sanded by hand, the stone drilled, a silver finding ring set into the drilled hole, a silver plated stainless steel chain — because this stone asks for nothing more. It is the necklace for people who don't wear necklaces. There is one of this stone, and there will not be another like it.
— This piece has found its home.