Auction #1: A Necklace for Valentines

November 1st, 2009

Write Everything Down by Susan SaltzmanWrite Everything Down
by Susan Saltzman

18” long ball chain necklace. All metal except grommet is 100% sterling silver, oxidized and satin finished. Handcut and stamped heart charm fitted with brass grommet and hand formed stamped sterling pendant. Authentic aqua colored sea glass (this particular piece is from Cornwall, England) drilled and hung from silver chain. Tiny puffy heart charm dangles at tear drop clasp.

Based On:
Valentines by Shira Lipkin

This auction has ended. Thanks to everyone who bid. Please check the front page for more auctions, going on through the first week of December, 2009.

My inspiration for this necklace:

Information is sacred. We are collections of information.

I observe. I record. And I like to figure out what people are by examining what they’re made of.

Valentine…

his eyes are seaglass-blue.

I do not remember things everyone remembers. And I need to. In order to build a self I need a foundation. I have to write more. I have to make sense of things.

I think the universe or the multiverse or whatever has this stopgap for data loss, and I think the human brain does pattern-patching on a subconscious level – finding the things that match you and filling holes with them.

With enough data, maybe I can figure out the world.

I write. Everything.

Susan Saltzman

Write Everything Down Write Everything Down

Story, Artist, Author: , ,
Filed under Auctions, Interfictions 2, Jewelry, Necklaces | Comments (2)

2 Responses to “Auction #1: A Necklace for Valentines”

  1. Interfictions 2 Publication and Readings + First Auction Ends Soon at Interstitial Arts Foundation Auctions on November 7, 2009 2:25 pm

    [...] Auction #1: A Necklace for Valentines Search for: [...]

  2. Shira Lipkin on November 15, 2009 12:22 am

    Just exquisite. Perfect in its simplicity. :)

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A Taste Of Interfictions 2
“My brother Pedro was born on the floor of our apartment. That was when we lived above the Good Foot. It was three-thirty on a Saturday morning when my mother pushed him out. Downstairs in the club, my father used to say, there was a band playing with twenty drummers, two basses, two guitars. Big horn section, lots of singers. It was some party down there. My mother said that my brother didn't cry once. He just hit the floor, put his ear against it, and started taking it all in right then. The band, the cheers from the crowd, the stomping feet against the club's floor. He never cried. But never slept either. Just listened and listened.”
From: Interviews After the Revolution by Brian Francis Slattery

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