Some pieces don't go on the wrist or the finger — they go across the hand itself, and that changes everything. The spiral is the oldest protective form I know. Long before it was jewelry, women across the Mediterranean, Egypt, and the East wore coiled copper close to the skin because it was believed the spiral turns negativity away before it can ever reach you — the envy, the ill intentions, the evil eye. A form with no beginning and no end. Nowhere for anything unwanted to enter. Our grandmothers didn't call it a trend. They called it protection. I shaped this piece the way the old tradition intended: formed by hand from a single unbroken length of 99.9% pure copper wire, coiled ring by ring from the center outward, the tail resting across the back of the hand where it stays with you all day. Not plated. Not mixed. The same warm, living metal women have trusted for thousands of years. Wear it the way they did — put it on each morning before you face the world, as a quiet ritual that says: whatever today throws at me does not get to stay. The women who come back to me always say the same thing. They feel lighter wearing it, in a way they stopped trying to explain. This is one of the last pieces I'll make before I close my workshop for good. I hope it finds the hands that need it.
