When Driftwood Becomes Jewelry 🌿❤️

The finished Driftwood Pendant — sculpted in wax, transformed into 14k Rose Gold, and finished with deep oxidation to reveal the organic texture and movement of the design.

When Driftwood Becomes Jewelry

There are times when I sit down with a piece of wax and I don't really know what I'm going to make.

I just start looking.

I look at the shape. I turn it over in my hands. I follow a line with my eyes and wonder where it wants to go. Sometimes the piece tells me what it wants to become long before I have a name for it.

That is how this pendant began.

I wanted to capture something I have always loved about driftwood—the way nature can take something as ordinary as a piece of wood and transform it into something extraordinary.

Driftwood isn't perfect.

It is weathered. It has been shaped by water, wind, time and movement. Its surface carries the evidence of everything it has been through.

That is what I wanted this pendant to feel like.

Not a picture of a piece of wood.

But the spirit of driftwood.

Before it became gold, it was simply a piece of blue wax in my hand — sculpted line by line until the form finally felt right.

♥

It Started in Wax...

Working in soft wax gives me the freedom to sculpt the way I see.

I don't begin with a perfectly symmetrical drawing and then try to make the jewelry match it. I follow the movement of the material.

One line becomes another. A branch curves. A space opens. A little bit of wax disappears and suddenly the whole piece breathes differently.

I love those openings.

They are just as important as the metal that remains.

The negative space allows light to travel through the pendant and creates the deep shadows that make the piece feel almost alive.

And, as often happens with my work, I changed it.

The first version wasn't quite where I wanted it to be. I went back into the wax and revised the form, allowing the lines to become more fluid and the lower portion of the pendant to have more movement.

Sometimes the smallest change is what finally makes a piece feel right.

From Wax to Metal

Once the wax is finished, the piece begins another life.

This version is envisioned in 14k Rose Gold, with oxidation worked into the deeper recesses.

That contrast is important to me.

I don't want every surface of my jewelry to shout, Look at me, I'm gold.

I want the light to find the raised areas while the darker oxidized recesses settle into the background.

Just like the cracks and shadows in a piece of weathered wood.

The result is warm, dimensional and organic.

It still looks like something that might have been found along the edge of a river or tucked beneath an old tree.

Only now, it has become jewelry.

The Beauty Is in the Imperfection

I think that is what keeps drawing me back to nature.

Nothing is perfectly symmetrical.

Nothing repeats itself exactly.

A branch doesn't stop and ask whether its next curve makes sense. It simply grows.

That is what I try to capture when I sculpt.

I want the finished piece to feel as though it grew rather than was constructed.

This Driftwood Pendant is one of those pieces where the metal almost disappears as metal.

You see the movement first.

You see the texture.

You see the spaces.

And then you realize that what you're looking at is gold.

A Little Piece of the Forest

I have spent much of my jewelry-making life looking at leaves, twigs, roots, vines, bark and the little details most people walk right past.

I don't see just a piece of wood.

I see a line.

A curve.

A place where light falls.

A shape that might become something completely different in my hands.

That is the magic of creating jewelry this way.

I don't have to reproduce nature.

I get to interpret it.

And sometimes, a little piece of driftwood becomes a pendant.

❤️

Designed and sculpted by Dawn Vertrees.

The Back Matters: Because Art Flips

THE FRONT

Cleaned up and carrying the texture, flow, and movement of the design.

THE BACK

Before cleanup — waiting for the same attention it takes to make the front beautiful.

The Back Matters: Because Art Flips

A picture says a thousand words.
Sometimes, though, a picture makes you stop and ask a question.
As I was working on this new wax pendant, I had already spent a great deal of time sculpting the front. The flowing lines, texture, movement, and organic shape were beginning to feel right.
Then I turned it over.
Holy moly, that's ugly. 😂
Not because the pendant was wrong. The back simply hadn't received the attention the front had yet.
And that's when I started thinking about something I've understood for a very long time:
Art flips.
For more than 20 years, I've finished the backs of my pendants.
Why?
Because jewelry moves.
It twists.
It turns.
It shifts when you wear it.
At some point, the back is going to become the front.
And when that happens, I don't want someone wearing one of my pieces to see a flat piece of metal with a logo simply because that's traditionally what we do.
I want them to see art.

The Front...

The front of this pendant has already been cleaned up and refined.
The texture flows through the piece, creating movement rather than a perfectly predictable pattern. The raised areas catch the light, while the deeper grooves create shadow and dimension.
It's meant to feel organic.
It's meant to look as though the material itself created the movement.
This is the part most people will see first.
But it isn't the only part I care about.

The Back...

This photograph shows the back before I gave it the attention it needed.
It's rough.
It's unfinished.
And compared to the front, well...

Holy moly. 😂

But underneath that unfinished surface is the beginning of another piece of art.
The back doesn't need to be an exact copy of the front.
In fact, I don't want it to be.
It needs to have its own art.
It needs its own texture, movement, and character while still feeling like it belongs to the same piece.
Because if the pendant flips around, I don't want the story to stop.
I want it to tell another story.

Nature Doesn't Have a "Front" and "Back"

That's one of the things I love about working from nature.
A piece of driftwood doesn't have a side that nature decided was the beautiful side.
Every surface has something to say.
There are ridges, cracks, grain, weathering, and places where the wood has changed over time.
The texture continues around the piece because nature doesn't stop creating simply because we've turned something over.
That's what I try to translate into my jewelry.
I'm not trying to make the front beautiful and simply make the back functional.
I'm trying to make the entire piece feel alive.

My Studio Buddy, Bogey — A Saturday Morning in the Studio

My studio buddy, Bogey. He may technically be my son's dog, but somewhere along the way, this 87-pound Old English Bulldog became part of my creative life. ❤️🐾

My Studio Buddy, Bogey

Saturday Morning in the Studio

Saturday mornings have a way of slowing things down.

The coffee is still hot, the studio is quiet, and before I get too far into the day, I sometimes find myself looking around at this little creative space I've built and thinking about how life gets us where we are.

And these days, I have a studio buddy.

His name is Bogey. ⛳🐾

Technically, he's my son's dog.

But when my son travels, I take care of his home and Bogey. Since my studio is here too, Bogey has become a pretty regular part of my creative life.

And somewhere along the way, I've kind of adopted him.

Bogey is an Old English Bulldog, weighs a very respectable 87 pounds, and according to Brad, his birthday is around September 10th, so Bogey is almost 1 year old.

I recently had to ask Brad exactly what kind of bulldog he was because, honestly, I couldn't remember.

The conversation went something like this:

“I'm pretty sure he's a Traditional English Bulldog.”

“Old English Bulldog.”

“Lol... Old.”

“Different.”

😂

Pieces of History, Inspiration for Today: The Driftwood Band

 

Pieces of History. Inspiration for Today.

The Driftwood Band is more than a piece of jewelry—it carries the character of the natural world that inspired it. After more than 20 years of working with organic forms, I still find that nature leaves the best fingerprints.

I've Been Making Men's Jewelry for 20 Years… Maybe It's Time to Pay Attention

I've been thinking.

That's usually when something interesting starts happening around here.

For more than 20 years, I've been carving jewelry inspired by the natural world. Leaves, branches, roots, vines, driftwood, coral—I've always been drawn to forms that look as though they grew instead of being designed.

And for just as long, I've been making pieces that men wear.

I've never really called it a men's collection.

I simply made what I wanted to make.

But lately, I'm beginning to wonder if I've been overlooking something that's been right in front of me all along.

The Driftwood Band

One of my long-time selling rings began with a real piece of driftwood.

Not a photograph.

Not a computer-generated texture.

Actual wood.

I studied the way it moved, the openings, the grain, the irregular shapes and the strength in something that had been weathered by nature.

Then I took that feeling into my wax.

The result became a ring that has continued to sell for years.

And it just sold again—in gold.

Interestingly, the most recent gold ring was purchased by a woman for her fiancé.

That made me smile.

Because maybe the customer isn't always looking for "men's jewelry."

Sometimes she's simply looking for something that feels like him.

And sometimes a man sees the organic ring his partner is wearing and says, "I like that. Do you have something that goes with hers?"

I love that idea.

Not matching rings.

Rings that belong together.

So I'm Paying Attention

I'm not interested in suddenly creating a huge men's jewelry department.

That's not how I work.

I'm thinking about a small group of pieces.

A few rings.

A pendant.

And perhaps a cuff.

(And if you've followed my work for any length of time, you know I'm no stranger to cuffs.)

My Ocean World cuffs were carried in Wyland Galleries for years, so creating a substantial organic cuff isn't new territory for me.

What's different is where my eye is today.

After more than two decades of carving, casting, experimenting and watching people live with my jewelry, I have a much better understanding of what happens when you let nature lead the design.

I Don't Want to Make "Men's Jewelry."

I want to make Dawn Vertrees jewelry that happens to be worn by men.

That's an important distinction to me.

I don't want to take my work and make it harder, heavier or more masculine just because someone says it is for a man.

I want to keep the things that have always made my work mine:

Organic form.

Texture.

Movement.

Strength.

Imperfection.

Nature.

And then see where those ideas take me.

Maybe that becomes a small men's collection.

Maybe it becomes something couples can discover together.

Maybe a woman finds a ring for her fiancé.

Maybe a man finds something that reminds him of the outdoors, the water, the woods or a place that means something to him.

I don't know yet.

And that's actually the fun part.

I'm going to start carving.

One piece at a time.

And we'll see what grows.

After all, that's how most of my jewelry begins.

The Stew That Takes Care of Me

A big pot of vegetable beef stew, made ahead for the busy creative days waiting at my wax bench.

There are days when I know I'm going to be spending six hours at my bench, sculpting wax.

Six hours of looking closely.

Six hours of shaping tiny pieces of wax with my hands, making adjustments, adding texture, taking something away, and watching a little piece of art slowly become what I saw in my mind.

I love those days.

But I've learned something over the years.

When I know I'm going to be completely absorbed in my work, I like to take care of tomorrow's me today.

And for me, that means making a big pot of stew.

Not because I don't have time to cook.

Quite the opposite.

I don't want to finish a long day of creating a tiny piece of art and open a can of soup.

I want to walk into my kitchen and already know that something wonderful is waiting for me.

After a long day of sculpting, this is how I like to finish the day—a hearty bowl of stew, fresh herbs and a glass of wine.

I think that's one of the things I've learned about creativity.

It doesn't always happen at the jewelry bench.

Sometimes creativity is choosing the ingredients.

Sometimes it's growing herbs in a sunny kitchen window.

Sometimes it's putting together a meal that makes an ordinary evening feel special.

And sometimes it's simply knowing that tomorrow is going to be busy...

and doing something today that will make tomorrow a little sweeter.

I don't just create jewelry.

I create moments.

And this stew is one of them. 

❤️

Mother & Child Whale Tail Pendant | Hand Sculpted Sterling Silver Necklace

Mother & Child Whale Tail Pendant

A Story Carried by the Sea

Some designs begin with a sketch.

Others begin with a memory.

This pendant began with the quiet moment when a mother whale gently guides her calf through the endless ocean. There is no rush, no fear—only trust, protection, and an unspoken bond that has existed for millions of years.

As I sculpted this piece in wax, I wanted it to feel alive. Not perfectly symmetrical. Not rigid. Just flowing... as though the ocean itself had shaped every curve.

Inspired by the enduring bond between a mother whale and her calf, this hand-sculpted sterling silver pendant captures the beauty, strength, and graceful movement of the ocean.

🐳

Designed for everyday wear, the Mother & Child Whale Tail Pendant rests beautifully at the neckline, making it a meaningful reminder of love, family, and the sea.

Celebrate the bond between mother and child with this hand-sculpted sterling silver whale tail pendant. Inspired by the ocean and created one curve at a time by Dawn Vertrees.

A closer look at the front of the pendant reveals the flowing lines of the mother and calf, hand sculpted to create the natural movement and organic beauty found in nature.