Wednesday, 3:30 pm.
The bench is busy. It is almost like an assembly line at times, but one that requires the operator shift his mood to a new creative perspective with every piece. It would be interesting to see the changing aspects of the brain as each new project comes in focus for a time.
The jeweler’s mind is a complex database; an amalgam of information about materials, techniques, design, outcomes, color, form, style, instructions from the woman who brought in a broken ring, instructions from the man who seeks unique wedding bands, chemistry, physics, art, composition, time, weight and the innumerable sudden, continually unfolding ideas that emerge and demand an expression of their own.
The pieces, in progress or otherwise, that inhabit the workbench off and on are like markers of time in the workshop, like a small world going about the business of transformation under the meticulous hands of the jeweler. The workbench is a microcosm in motion. These few snapshots give an illusion of stillness.
Enters Lisa Messier, of Cambridge, bringing a new repair project to the workbench. “This is my favorite necklace. It fell in a ceramic sink and one of the wings came apart. Can you fix this?” Yes, of course, Silvio can fix this. “An overnight stay at the vet should do it,” he announces. Lisa smiles. Valued jewelry, when broken, remind us to keep a light heart. Some pieces can be fixed, others inspire a new creation.