A white rectangular card with handwritten text that says "brand/identity."
A display of jewelry on a brown ceramic dish, including a chain necklace with a dark blue pendant, a ring, and a pair of earrings. There is a red book titled 'All of It' and a blue jewelry box on a striped fabric background.

wovekind

wovekind was the reincarnation of my fine jewelry brand. began with a vision: to transform jewelry from mere object to sacred ceremony. As a jeweler, I witnessed the magic people sought—often unconsciously—in their search for personal adornment. wovekind emerged as a conceptual journey, guiding people toward this profound truth. Every piece we created was designed not simply to be worn, but to be experienced—each one an heirloom carrying meaning, each interaction a ritual connecting past to future.

brand concept + identity // product
website design + development // partnership with Freestate
photography // partnership with Hannah Thornhill + Madeline Farrin

Close-up of a woman with curly hair during sunset, with a hand gently touching her head and another touching her neck, both hands wearing rings.

crown nine

Crown Nine emerged as debut jewelry brand from the alchemical lab—a place where approachability melded with eternal craft. Built on pillars of joyful creation and holistic integrity, each piece invited wearers into a world of warm, earthy embrace.

The visual language of the brand was born through a divine collaboration, with brand identity and art direction conjured by Hollyoak House, while photographers Hannah Thornhill and Madeline Farrin captured the essence. Freestate did web development.

Here, fine jewelry shed its intimidation to become accessible treasure, grounded in both earth, artistry, and story.

brand identity + art direction // Hollyoak House
website design + development // in partnership with Freestate
photography // partnership with Eva Kolenko, Lauren Crew, Hannah Thornhill + Madeline Farrin

A handwritten note on a piece of paper says, 'the starving artist is a lie.'

Artists aren't bad at business.
They're visionaries.
Problem-solvers.
World-builders.

They imagine what doesn't exist yet.
Bring visions into reality.
See possibilities others miss.

That's dangerous to a system built on extraction. And why the myth of the starving artist persists—to keep artists disconnected from their agency.

Telling the people in our society who are the most tapped-in that they deserve to suffer for that very calling — who does that serve?

Because resourced artists don't reproduce systems of harm. They don't replicate the dominant economy.

They build new ones.

Economies based on reciprocity. Community. Abundance.

Less likely to hoard wealth.
More likely to create mutual aid.

To heal. Grow. Nurture. Protect. Include. Care. Love.

Most people are too colonized in their minds to imagine a new economy, let alone create one.

But artists hold the leverage point.

The same creativity that makes art can make exceptional entrepreneurship—but not for making more of the same.

It will build the next wave.
A new paradigm.
Something yet to be
imagined.