The Law Says It’s Jewelry — I Say It’s Magick

It started with a customs form.
“Certain gemstones set in some kind of metal.” That’s the line. If you cross it, you’ve got to declare it — legally jewelry. So I leaned in.

Legally Jewelry is my response to that line. A little dry legalese meets a lot of raw intent.

What I make is minimal: copper, silver, or brass wire. No settings, no bezels. Just a loop, a twist, a dab of solder — enough to qualify. The designs are stripped down to the legal minimum, but the meaning? That’s layered.

I use raw stones. Untouched. Uncut. Not showroom grade — most jewelers wouldn’t look twice. But that’s the point. These are shards of the earth that weren’t made to sparkle under a spotlight. They exist. That’s enough.

Birthstones and Backstories

Most of the stones I use map loosely to Jewish-denominated birthstones — which themselves trace back to a story in the Torah. Aaron, Moses’ brother, wore a priestly breastplate with twelve stones, each one representing a tribe of Israel.

Today, we call them birthstones. We assign them to months. We wrap meaning around them like a wire setting. But even now, they hold something old — a story of identity, of place, of symbol.

I don’t follow it strictly. I swap diamond for clear quartz in April. Diamond’s just carbon. Quartz feels alive. Emerald, peridot, and aquamarine cost a bit more, but many others? Dirt cheap. A raw ruby worth gifting might cost me $2. A garnet, a dollar. Shards of amethyst, especially in fang shapes — I love those. Tanzanite's rare, and alexandrite is usually synthetic, but they still hold weight.

What they all have in common: they weren’t polished to please anyone. And neither was this project.

Why Raw?

Because beauty doesn’t need to be extracted, cut, and sold.
Because the world’s been cracked open enough already.

These stones came from the earth with scars. Some were left behind after the gem hunters moved on. Some were sold for pennies because they didn’t “grade.” Perfect.

I don’t want perfection. I want truth.
And a shard of truth, hanging from a single soldered loop, is more powerful than a $5,000 ring that never left the box.

The Breastplate of Happy

When I gift a stone, I call it The Breastplate of Happy.
It’s a little wink to Aaron’s high priest garb — but mine’s way less ceremonial and way more ridiculous.

I solder most pieces in my room, often with the recipient sitting there. It’s personal. Slightly reckless. Sometimes I burn a finger. And I hand it over while it’s still warm.

I’ve never sold a piece. That would kill it.

At Burning Man 2022, I gave away about 70 pre-made pendants and brought loose stones for spontaneous moments. I set up a little side quest: encourage people to propose to their friends. “If you don’t, I will.” Cue laughter, confusion, and a few impromptu playa marriages. I had simple rings — cheap metal bands with a dab of epoxy and a raw stone. That was enough.

One camp was using sunlight to melt clay and glass into handmade amulets. I wandered up with a bag of rubies and emeralds. They looked at me like I was a wizard who took a wrong turn. “You brought what?” Just the right thing at the right time.

Value Is a Joke — and Also Dead Serious

I heckle the idea of “precious” by treating it like candy.
Want a ruby? Here. Take it. I’ve got more. But also: this one’s for you. And that makes it priceless.

There’s something funny about what we call valuable. Something broken. If a diamond’s worth more than a moment of joy, that’s not economics — that’s a curse.

My work isn’t supernatural. It’s not about vibration or woo. It’s about material, intent, and timing. That’s magick with a K — the kind that doesn’t sparkle unless you mean it.

So yeah — the law says it’s jewelry.
I say it’s magick.
And that’s enough.

From Wire to Web3

theextrudery.io

At some point, the soldering iron met the scanner.

I started experimenting with a Revopoint Mini — scanning raw stones with a disco motor and fishing line setup. What came out wasn’t just a digital model, but a kind of relic: a snapshot of a moment, a texture, a history.

That became theextrudery.io — a side project where I scan heads, live objects, and anything else that deserves a second life in 3D. It’s not about glam — it’s about evidence. About linking the raw with the real, the physical with the symbolic.

Some of the scanned pendants may eventually live on as NFTs — not for sale, just for memory. But for the pieces I make for strangers or commercial versions I don’t personally gift? Who knows. Maybe one day they’ll be available for Monero. I haven’t gotten that far. I’m still busy burning my fingers and making moments.

Framing Memory in Stone

Not everything I make hangs from a neck.

Some moments deserve more than a pendant — they need a frame.
Lately, I’ve been experimenting with photo frames built from stone and epoxy, sometimes layered on top of wood, metal, or whatever base fits the vibe. Sometimes the stones are embedded; sometimes they’re laced across the surface like a spell. I’ve used tourmaline, topaz, and whatever shards call to the story.

These frames are part altar, part relic, part love letter. Some hold photos of friends or family. Some hold deeper meanings — even physical pieces of memory, like a strand of pig hair from Chief Wiggum sealed in resin.

Like the pendants, these too can be scanned. Bound to a story. Maybe even minted. Some frames might end up as NFTs — not for clout or hype, but to preserve something sacred in digital form. A kind of public spellbook of who and what mattered.

The frame holds the memory. The NFT holds the frame.
And both get to outlive the moment they were made for.

Gallery: The Breastplate of Happy (Selections)