It rarely starts at the workbench

When someone asks me where I get the ideas for my jewelry, the answer is actually quite simple:

Most of them don't start at the workbench.

They start outside.

By the sea, on a beach, on a hike in the mountains, or sometimes just in a perfectly ordinary everyday moment.

I have always loved nature and the small details that are easy to overlook. A shape, a texture, a leaf, a stone, or something the sea has washed up on the beach.

I often bring such small finds home. Not necessarily because I already know what I'm going to do with them, but because there's something about them that I like.

And sometimes they lie around for a long time before an idea emerges.

From nature to silver

The Sea Memories collection began with a small sea urchin I found along the coast in Lofoten.

I was fascinated by its delicate texture and all the small details nature had created. Eventually, I started experimenting with how I could preserve some of this expression in silver.

The same applies to the plants I use in some of my jewelry. Leaves from the nature around me can become the starting point for an imprint in silver. Small structures that otherwise only exist for a short time can, in this way, take on a whole new life.

The mountains I live with

The mountains around me also find their way into my work.

I live right below Higravtindan, the highest mountain in Lofoten. Part of the mountain is actually on our property, which I think is quite special.

But first and foremost, the mountains are a completely natural part of my daily life.

I see them from the house and workshop, when I go out in the morning and when I come home. The light, the weather, and the seasons mean they never look exactly the same.

Some days the summit is hidden in the clouds. Other days the mountain is sharp and clear against the sky. In winter, it's covered in snow, while water flows down the mountainside when the snow melts.

When you live so close to the landscape, it's perhaps not surprising that the forms eventually find their way to the workbench.

A mountain silhouette I have seen hundreds of times can suddenly become the starting point for a new piece of jewelry.

This is how several of my mountain jewelry pieces began.

Sand leaves its own traces

Sand has also been given a very special place in my work.

I use sand from beaches in Lofoten when I sand-cast some of my jewelry. What I like so much about this technique is that I can never control everything.

The sand leaves its own traces.

Small irregularities and textures remain in the silver, and therefore no two pieces of jewelry are exactly identical.

That actually suits me very well.

I don't want everything I make to look like it came straight from a machine. I like that you can see small traces of the process and the hands that made the jewelry.

But the story of why I started using sand in my jewelry in the first place is another one.

It's very personal and means a lot to me.

I will tell that story another time.

Not all ideas become jewelry

Of course, getting an idea doesn't mean it always works.

Sometimes I envision something, start working – and quickly discover that it was much prettier in my head than in silver.

Other times, the opposite happens.

I start without a clear plan, try things out at the workbench, and suddenly something emerges that I hadn't thought of beforehand.

That's part of what I like best about the craft.

To experiment. Make mistakes. Change direction. Put something aside and perhaps pick it up again months later.

And inspiration doesn't always have to be grand or solemn.

Sometimes an idea can pop up over a cup of coffee, on a drive, or when I see a shape or texture in something completely ordinary and start wondering what it would look like in silver.

I think that's why I never completely run out of ideas.

A small piece of a place

When a piece of jewelry is finally finished in front of me on the workbench, it often has a much longer story than what you can see.

Perhaps it started with something I found on a beach.

A leaf I brought home.

A mountain shape I've seen countless times.

A little sand between my fingers.

Or just a small moment that made me stop and look a little closer.

For me, Lofoten Jewelry is therefore not just about making jewelry inspired by nature.

It's about preserving small traces of places, moments, and stories – and giving them a form that can be carried forward.

And perhaps that's precisely why my best ideas rarely start at the workbench.

They start somewhere out there.

Jacqui