Sunday Selections was originally brought to us by Kim, of Frogpondsrock, as an ongoing meme where participants could post previously unused photos languishing in their files.
The meme is now continued by River at Drifting through life. The rules are so simple as to be almost non-existent. Post some photos under the title Sunday Selections and link back to River. Clicking on any of the photos will make them embiggen.
Like River I usually run with a theme. My father was a damaged, difficult and complicated man. A difficult and complicated man who made some very beautiful jewellery as a hobby. A little while ago my nephew's wife asked me to send her some photos of his work. This week I finally got round to it, and thought I would post some of the photos as a tribute to him.
The rings are all my mother's. My hands are bigger than hers and I cannot wear any of them. I bit my fingernails for years and he flatly refused to make me rings until I stopped. Some of the earrings are mine, and some hers. Note that the piece which goes through your ear is always in keeping with the overall design. Not for him a simple post. Father almost always worked in silver and, probably because of his influence, I prefer it to gold.
There is a large garnet set into this ring.
A moonstone.
A stud. I mourn (twenty years later) losing the other one.
Amber.
Amethyst.
He was not a happy chappy when I told him this brooch he made for my mother made me think of a slug. It does though.
The meme is now continued by River at Drifting through life. The rules are so simple as to be almost non-existent. Post some photos under the title Sunday Selections and link back to River. Clicking on any of the photos will make them embiggen.
Like River I usually run with a theme. My father was a damaged, difficult and complicated man. A difficult and complicated man who made some very beautiful jewellery as a hobby. A little while ago my nephew's wife asked me to send her some photos of his work. This week I finally got round to it, and thought I would post some of the photos as a tribute to him.
The rings are all my mother's. My hands are bigger than hers and I cannot wear any of them. I bit my fingernails for years and he flatly refused to make me rings until I stopped. Some of the earrings are mine, and some hers. Note that the piece which goes through your ear is always in keeping with the overall design. Not for him a simple post. Father almost always worked in silver and, probably because of his influence, I prefer it to gold.
There is a large garnet set into this ring.
A moonstone.
A stud. I mourn (twenty years later) losing the other one.
Amber.
Amethyst.
He was not a happy chappy when I told him this brooch he made for my mother made me think of a slug. It does though.
