As an object, jewelry is radically intimate.
The body is a connector between the outward projection of personal adornment and the inward projection of memory, and so, the skin, our envelope, becomes the boundary of two realities. Our internal projections, based on flawed logic, can render beauty from cracks in the sidewalk, and discarded notes, peeling paint, tracks and signs of insects, old opinions, half-truths, scars, out-of-date philosophies and other ephemera. The body houses visual memory, carries the jewel, keeps both in constant motion, always slightly elusive. While jewelry compels for its physical intimacy, photography’s sleight of hand is in its ability to make everything go still.