When we think of beauty, we think of purity, and raw, boundless strength. We think of how the earth, under immense pressure, knicks and bows and jags into the tallest of mountain ranges and the deepest valleys—taking a new shape, always resilient, like us. In ourselves, we see the earth, shrouded in romance and mystery. Worn, weathered knuckles and knees, like stria carved into stone—marks of the trials we have seen and overcome.
This beauty and vitality speaks for itself, begging minimalist embellishment. Delicate brassy and golden metals that marble rock faces and fit our fingers perfectly, or a pearl perched upon our earlobes—they are the silver rings around the thunderhead that give the earth, and us, a quiet but unshakable beauty. The freckles on our noses are constellations dreamed up just for us. It’s apt to accentuate all that we are with earthly metals and precious stones, forever linking us to our origins.