04/25/2026
I’ve taken this necklace apart more times than I can count.
Not in a loud way-but in the quiet, repetitive way that making something meaningful often does.
It’s been taken apart.
Rebuilt.
Questioned.
Adjusted again.
Because when something carries Morse Code, it doesn’t feel like decoration to me.
It feels like language.
Like something that should be handled carefully, almost like memory.
And I’ve been trying to get it right -not just how it looks, but how it sits.
How it feels when it rests against someone.
This is the part of the work people don’t usually see. Z
The slow down.
The frustration.
The quiet trying again.
But I think that is where the piece starts to become itself.
Something meant to be held close.
