Wednesday, 3 pm.
On the three stump that serves as a side table to the workbench, sits an impressive two-headed snake bracelet. This unique piece has been taking shape for several months, evolving from an initial, simple sketch to take on a shape and personality of its own over time.
The initial inspiration came about a year ago, when Bob Hinshaw, AKA Bucket Bob, or Bob’s Repair, stopped by to chat with Silvio. Within moments, a stunning bloodstone caught his eye. “This would look great on a bracelet!” immediately imagined Bob. “Can you make me a bracelet?” The conversation continued, Silvio and Bob putting their minds together to envision the right shape and materials. “How about a bracelet with a snake head?” suggested Bob. “You know what?” he added, “Make it look any way you want. I know I will be happy with it. Take your time. Work on it when you can. There is no rush. Let it just come to you.”
Thus the bloodstone that inspired a snake bracelet that in turn inspired an initial, minimalist rendition, evolved week by week and month by month, each new element calling to mind a new direction or detail, as if the bracelet were revealing itself in its own time.
“Commercial silver bracelets are often hollow, or at least thinner than this, and weigh on average 2 ounces or so. This one weighs nearly 5 ounces. First I carved the head out of wax and had it cast in fine silver. When I saw this, I just had to make another one. I could picture how they would face each other on the ends of the bracelet. The more I worked on it, the more it made sense,” recalls Silvio. (Below – snake heads shown with Silvio’s snake vertebrae bracelet).
The bloodstone is set in a 14 karat gold bezel and a gold bead completes each head. The gold came from an old ring Bob brought in to recycle into elements of the bracelet. Rubies form the eyes. The band, like the heads, is made of fine silver. It is entirely hand-fabricated. Bob stopped by over time to watch it take shape, in between other projects and custom orders, as detail upon detail gave life to this otherwise inanimate object. He insisted on letting it emerge in its own time. It was not a matter of waiting; it was about appreciating the process.