2015

  Between Me and Her carved mirrors, 24 carat gold engraved image above: opening exhibition Tweex 3, Vander A Contemporary Jewellery image below: Marc Tops I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions. Whatever I see I swallow immediately just at it is, unmisted by love or dislike. I am not cruel, only truthful, the eye of a little god, four-cornered. Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall. It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long I think it is part of my heart. But it flickers. Faces and darkness separate us over and over. Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me, searching my reaches for what she really is. Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon. I see her back, and reflect it faithfully. She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands. I am important to her. She comes and goes. Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness. In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman rises towards her every day after day, like a terrible fish. Mirror - Sylvia Plath

 

Between Me and Her
carved mirrors, 24 carat gold engraved

image above: opening exhibition Tweex 3, Vander A Contemporary Jewellery
image below: Marc Tops


I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions. Whatever I see I swallow immediately just at it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful, the eye of a little god, four-cornered. Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long I think it is part of my heart. But it flickers. Faces and darkness separate us over and over.


Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me, searching my reaches for what she really is. Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully. She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands. I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness. In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman rises towards her every day after day, like a terrible fish.
Mirror - Sylvia Plath