My jewelry work begins in metal and myth. Working primarily in pewter, I draw on Norse mythology and Swedish folklore — the stories I grew up with — to make wearable objects that carry weight beyond their material. A hammer, a wolf, a braided band: these forms are old, but I'm interested in what they still do for the person who puts them on. Jewelry is one of the few art forms designed to live directly against the skin, and that intimacy is where my practice lives too.
That intimacy has led me toward a newer question: what can jewelry do for a body that experiences the world differently? My ongoing project Worn Wisdom: Jewelry That Lets the Body Hear extends this material language into haptic design for deaf and disabled performers — pieces that translate rhythm, cue, and sound into something felt rather than heard. It's the same instinct that shaped the mythic pieces, pointed at a different kind of listening.
Across both bodies of work, I'm making objects meant to be worn, not just looked at — jewelry as a small, personal technology of meaning, memory, and sensation.
This ring is more than an object — it's a working prototype from the Worn Wisdom project. Embedded inside is a small sensor and haptic actuator that translates sound, rhythm, or cue into vibration the wearer can feel against the skin. Built for deaf and disabled performers, it lets the body pick up on timing and signal that would otherwise depend on hearing. The video above shows the ring responding in real time — proof of concept for jewelry that doesn't just adorn the body, but communicates with it.