It’s the tactile feel and sound of jewellery that tugs at my heart strings. Absentmindedly, probably for comfort or concentration, I fiddle with my earrings or run my pendant across its chain, tugging gently on my neck. I recall the sound of my Grandma’s bangles clinking when she was rolling hot, buttery chapattis for me as a child, and the reassuring feel of my rings when I use my thumb to spin them around my fingers, like I did on my Grandma’s hands as her loose rings swung around the base of her fingers.

These little vessels are sentimental by the nature of the companionship that they have provided me. They are always present in arms with me, whether it be through boredom, life’s milestones or hours of contemplation. I see my jewellery as miniature monuments. I know that they will outlast me and will likely outlast generations, akin to the buildings and monuments that capture histories. As such I place great importance upon their design, durability and wearability. I realise that a jeweller’s responsibility, of bringing a piece of jewellery to be, is essentially to create a worthy companion for someone, a vessel ready to hold what its owner has to pour into it, and a monument that can likely be on this earth for generations. A tall order, and rightly so.