The Contour Collection was born of burn-out, but lives through inspiration.
The beginning of 2025 saw me struggling with self-doubt, imposter syndrome, burn-out, and wanting to give it all up and get a "real" job because that's where stability lies.
When those feelings hit, creativity usually tanks.
A Christmas-time trip to the Museum of Fine Arts in Houston (MFAH) saw me inspired by sculpture artists like Sergio Camargo, Hermann Junger, Tone Vigeland, and other contemporary artists. If you're unfamiliar, their work is wall art that is 3D, plays with light and movement, and stands off the wall. I've been wanting to create jewelry like this for some time now and have had some creative blockage on not knowing where to start or where to end up.
After a few Pinterest searches I started thinking about how I could translate wall sculptures into jewelry by folding metal the way they were using clay and paper. Metal is malleable and can be worked a bit like clay, but not for too long or it'll break. I was seeing larger wall pieces made of both ceramic and metal, but became very inspired by gentle folds contrasted with sharp creases. Many times the only thing a work needed was one gentle, asymmetric fold to make it eye-catching. This idea of using only one small element to elevate a piece intrigued me and I started working.
I started with brass and quick shapes simply because I had plenty of brass to use up, and when a new idea strikes, I get impatient—I just need to try it. I’ll cut whatever’s in front of me and start working, just to get the idea out of my head and see if it’s even possible in metal and with my hands. After several small iterations, I realized a collection was taking shape. I added ear posts, turned pieces into finished jewelry, and started wearing them. That’s when more ideas began to flow, and eventually, the large brooches were born.
Contour became a way for me to use materials that had been sitting in my studio and bring ideas to life that had been sitting in my mind. It felt freeing to create something new—without stones, without overthinking, and without the constant worry of whether people would like it or buy it. Of course, that thought still lingers, but this time, it doesn’t matter as much because I love the work, and I’ve already had a great response to it.
