The Beginnings

He must have caught me fidgeting next to his sawhorse while he put an edge on the blade he was working with because he suddenly handed me his old pliers with the worn rubber and a length of wire and said, “Here, Little Luv, come make me something pretty.” And I did. A delicate and strange looking cross was the first product of a seven year old’s wild imagination allowed to run loose in the metal dust of an old workshop. Since then Papa has handed me many different pieces of nothing and challenged me to make “something pretty” out of them. And I have. And I love it.

 

Now, many years later, I have found a purpose and sense of fulfillment in creating these sweet nothings.

Teaching other young women how to create things and seeing they, in return, spark the creativity in others brings great joy in a world full of darkness. In order to continue, however, we have been forced to sell off some of the pieces of our souls that have been given physicality in the form of our art. We have come to find that beauty and pleasure do not come free.

–Hestia

The flame lights the way.

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