Drawing with Wire | The Making of Interlace

The Interlace Collection grew from a quiet fascination with structure, repetition, and the delicate forms found in nature. It brings together fine, intertwining lines and open latticework — a study in lightness, texture, and connection. Each piece is handmade in the atelier in Scotland, where ideas evolve slowly and intuitively, moving between the sketchbook and the workbench.

I’ve always surrounded myself with things that inspire me. In one corner of my atelier sits what I call my curiosity cabinet— a small collection of objects gathered over many years. It’s full of flea market finds, seed pods, art postcards picked up on gallery visits, shells and pebbles from the beach. I’ve always loved tiny things — no surprise there.

When I’m looking for inspiration, that’s often where I begin. For the Interlace Collection, it started with the skeletal remains of hydrangea petals I found in my garden, and the delicate helicopter seeds I noticed on my walk to the atelier one morning. The fleshy pulp had long since disappeared, leaving behind a fine, lace-like network of veins.

At first, I thought about interpreting them quite literally, but as I explored the idea in my sketchbook, I began to focus instead on the principle of structure — keeping only the delicate framework. That’s what eventually led me to apply the same idea to my Catkin design, which became the starting point for the Interlace pieces.

There are always a million ideas at the start of the process — most of them terrible, some that might find their way back into future collections. My sketchbook is dense with quick sketches, drawn as soon as ideas appear so they don’t escape. Sometimes they’re scribbled in my notes app if my sketchbook isn’t nearby. The whole collection doesn’t come together on paper, but a few ideas at that early stage felt strong enough to pursue.

From there, I moved to the workbench. I made small models in binding wire before tentatively beginning the first design — the Interlace Band Ring. I wanted to capture the fine, continuous line of my pencil drawings, so I drew my wire down to an oval section. It gave me a delicate surface with enough depth to hold its shape. Each loop was scored, folded, and soldered, one by one, building up the repeating pattern.

At that stage, I still wasn’t sure if or how I’d incorporate diamonds. I scanned the flat wire structure before shaping it into a ring, then used Photoshop to visualise different options for setting stones. The repetitive rhythm of making often allows space for the mind to wander — new ideas start forming even as the hands are busy. I found myself jumping back and forth between the bench and my sketchbook, quickly scribbling thoughts before they slipped away.

Every piece in the collection has its own path. Sometimes I use CAD to refine an idea and see how it might look finished; other times my rough pencil drawings are enough. If I’m unsure about something, I’ll often set it aside and return once my thoughts have settled. The Interlace Cluster Rings came together almost entirely at the bench, as the stones seemed to find their own place within the design. Other pieces required more technical drawings to move forward.

It’s always a dance between designing and making — one informs the other constantly. I’m so pleased with how this collection has come together. It feels like the biggest developmental leap I’ve made in my work for quite some time, and it’s been lovely to explore new techniques and work on a larger scale.

What’s especially satisfying is how some details trace back to my earlier pieces — elements like the grosgrain ribbon and tiny faceted beads that appeared in my silver work years ago. Some of the open, lacy structures even echo the hydrangea designs from the early days of my practice. I didn’t realise the connection until the collection was complete, but it makes perfect sense.

I think I’ve always been inspired by the same things — collections and the collecting. There’s a thread that runs through everything I make. My aesthetic has remained constant, taking different forms over the twenty-two years of my career. The Interlace Collection feels like a natural continuation of that journey — another chapter in a story that began long ago, with a small collection of beautiful, curious things.