Tenacity Necklace

The leaf was there in my wiper blades for months. Through rain (didn't drive much during the rainy days, but still used to blade quite a bit to clear the spring pollen), through freeway jaunts up and down the peninsula, past the Golden Gate and all around the city…

A spiky scrub oak leaf. 

Hanging out, hanging on.

I ignored it for a few weeks and figured that eventually a strong gust would take it.

After about a month and a half I was wonder-struck by it and

thought it to be good luck.

At eight weeks I was slapped with the beautiful realization

that I was witnessing grace and tenacity,

taught by a fucking LEAF in my wiper blade.

I took it out and gave it a perfect roll, the perfect rest.

Now for the pink sapphire:

I bought it at an antique store. It was badly broken on its sides (which I fixed with my lapidary equipment) and marred on its top near the apex of the perfectly clear star (which I did not fix on account of that perfect star).

Sapphires are a nine on the Mohs scale, right behind diamonds. 

They are HARD.

Whatever it took to break that sapphire and chip its top curve was strong.

Possibly brutal-

And yet, here it is, singing

a perfectly imperfect song

of remaining

despite

.

I am going to put this stunning marriage into the metal shop later this week.

I want you to think good and hard about the magic in these parts,

about the power of the whole.

Even if it's just through these stories,

this picture

I want you to take heart.

I want you to fall into their tenacity and be lifted.

By a rock and a leaf.

What?

Right.

You can call me batshit crazy, but every time I look at these two

I feel a bit better about this world, this life.

They are small and meek but ridiculously mighty.

The mirror image is going to someone I love who embodies

their power and then some, so there will only be one of these in the shop.

Here's to the beauty of tenacity, to a beautiful day.

xoxo,

Sunny