You used to always complain (jokingly) that I wanted jewelry, and I would try to explain that it didn’t have to be anything fancy and that it wasn’t about the item as much as the story behind it.  When I look at my jewelry, I think, “There’s the necklace you gave me for our first Christmas,” or “There’s the ring you made out of a straw in college and said you would give to your first girlfriend,” or “There are the chandelier earrings I carefully choose for my wedding day.”

You’ve given me so many lovely pieces of jewelry over eleven years, from Tiffany’s to the small shops like Clay Pot in Park Slope.  I wanted to take a few of my favorite pieces and showcase them someplace special where I could always see them all together.  And I happened to see this lovely box at Pottery Barn and ordered it a few months ago.  It was on backorder but it came today.  The rest of my jewelry will remain in the box I’ve had since I was a little girl, but now I have a special place to showcase all of the “stories” of us.

Those stories appear here in metal and linen and glass…but they’re also in nerves and neurons and this thing called a soul.