Every bracelet has a story

"Be still, and know that I am God." — Psalm 46:10 This was the first bracelet I ever made for Still & Known. In a way, it’s the reason the whole collection exists. Be Still Bracelet Before I designed anything, I had the name. Still & Known came from this verse — Psalm 46:10. Be still, and know that I am God. There is something about those words that has always felt like an anchor to me. Not a command to be passive, but an invitation to stop striving long enough to remember wh

It started with a stone that stopped me in my tracks. Cloud quartz has a quality that’s hard to describe. It’s translucent but not clear. There’s a soft haziness within it, like light diffused through morning fog. When I first came across it, I felt an immediate pull. There was something poetic about it. Something contemplative. But I also noticed another aspect. On its own, cloud quartz carries a certain heaviness. Its grey, misty quality can tip toward melancholy. It’s beau

"For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light." — Ephesians 5:8 Maybe you know someone who has come a long way. Or maybe you are that person. Someone who has lived through a season so heavy it felt like it would never lift. A depression that lasted too long. A loss that changed everything. A version of yourself you’re still learning to leave behind. And then, slowly—not all at once, and not without cost—something shifted. The darkne

"Fan into flame the gift of God." — 2 Timothy 1:6 Paul wrote these words to Timothy, a young man he loved like a son. Timothy was gifted, but he was also hesitant—prone to holding back, to staying quiet when he should have spoken. So Paul wrote to remind him: the fire is already in you. Stop letting it go cold. Fan it. That image stayed with me when I was designing this bracelet. Not a roaring fire, not something aggressive or loud. But a steady, warm flame. The kind that dri

It started with the red. White as snow on my wrist I was looking at a red agate stone—deep, faceted, with natural druzy crystals running through it—and something about it stopped me. It wasn’t just beautiful. It was striking in a way that felt almost urgent. Rich and raw and impossible to look away from. And almost immediately, a verse came to mind. Isaiah 1:18: “Come now, let us reason together, says the Lord. Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow