Silhouettes are at odds with the conventional presentation of shell-inspired jewellery.

Pieces become the paradox of a mollusc’s form;
not inherently beautiful yet intriguing through their distinctly visceral presence.

Minimalist and maximalist designs are sculpted in solid 10-karat gold,
silver, crowned with diamonds and citrine cabochon.

I remember seeing the ocean for the first time.
It’s difficult now to separate what it was really like
from the memories I’ve spent years
crafting and re-crafting in my mind.

Fragments have merged
to become a mosaic that catches
and shimmers in the afternoon light:
a tangible shift as the red earth from home
melted away and the taste of salt filled the air.

The blinding light of the sun breaking over the horizon.
The glittering mirage of the ocean.

Little galaxies formed in the sand,
fragments of colourful shells that you had to grab fast
before the ocean took them back again.

I didn’t see dolphins or mermaids
or any of the magical creatures from my imagination.
Instead, I found the perfect conch shell.
I cupped it to my ear and heard
the quiet reverberations of lapping waves.
I imagined it had been underwater for so long
that the sound of the sea still echoes inside it,
and that it would keep doing that,
even if I took it a thousand miles away.

What I now know is seashell resonance.

The sound we hear originates from our body
—our pumping blood, our moving muscles
—and echoes through the shell’s delicate form.

Words by Grace O'Neill