Auction #22: Silver Harmonies

November 22nd, 2009

Harmonium Mundi by M. PanitchHarmonium Mundi
by M. Panitch

Asymmetrical pierced earrings in argentium non-tarnishing sterling silver, stainless steel, kyanite, rock crystal, and freshwater pearl.

Based On:
“The Score” by Alaya Dawn Johnson

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.

When I first heard about this project, I knew I wanted to participate, but I’ll also admit to a certain amount of trepidation: how *do* you make a piece of jewelry, something so tangible and unchanging, to match a story, something that by its nature is about narrative and time, and inherently intangible despite being fixed in a specific order of words?

But by the morning after I read “The Score” I knew what at least my own answer would be — knew it in that mysteries-of-the-subconscious way, where the answer presents itself fully formed without your ever being aware you were thinking about the question. These earrings are a surprisingly (to me, at least) literal representation of the story — so literal, indeed, that I fear to discuss the correspondences lest I find myself in spoiler territory. I’d love to know how well this attempt at a translation works for those who’ve read the story; for now, I’ll just have to wait to have that conversation.

You should go read “The Score” yourself, of course. Immediately, if not sooner. And not just so that I can talk about it.

M. Panitch

Harmonium Mundi Harmonium Mundi

Story, Artist, Author: , ,
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A Taste Of Interfictions 2
“There's a red, ripe moon, like a berry, in the sky. Blood moon they call it, berry moon, I say. Juicy and full, that fat piece of fruit, makes me want to swallow it whole. A pearl of heaven's own blood in my mouth, and then... The sky surrounding my glossy morsel is brimming with purple champagne, foaming with stars. I wait for them to fall down and cover me in shimmering dust. Will it crackle and hiss when it touches my skin? Will it burn? Taste perhaps like ice and water, vanilla and nuts, when I lick it off my hands? It is my duty, you know, to eat it all up. "Greedy", you may say, but then, you still love me...”
From: Berry Moon by Camilla Bruce

Read another excerpt »