Ten Years at the Bench: How a Lump of Metal Clay Changed Everything

This year, Rust and Leaf turns ten. Ten years of handmade sterling silver jewelry, crafted one piece at a time in a small New England studio.

I did not plan to become a silversmith.

I did not wake up one morning with a vision of a torch in my hand, or sparks flying off a piece of sterling silver. I just showed up to a class, a metal clay workshop, and something shifted inside me that I did not fully understand until years later.

That day changed everything.

It Started with Clay

Those of you who know me or have followed Rust & Leaf for a while know that I have always been drawn to working with my hands. Long before I picked up a torch, I was sculpting with polymer clay, learning how to create funny 3-D characters, fairies and whatever else my imagination could think of. So when I discovered metal clay, a material that could be shaped like clay and then fired into pure sterling silver, it felt like the most natural thing in the world!

I signed up for a workshop at Metalwerx in Waltham, Massachusetts. If you are ever curious about metalsmithing and you are in the area, I cannot recommend this school enough. The instructors are exceptional, the community is warm, and the space hums with creative energy.

That first day, I made charms and a bracelet. And of course, because I am who I am, I made leaves. And flowers. I am drawn to natural shapes the way water is drawn downhill. It is not a choice, really. It is just where my hands go.

The First Spark (Literally)

After the metal clay workshop, I took a stacking ring class. That was the first time I ever held a torch and experienced the magic of soldering.

I remember the moment the solder flowed, that liquid silver line finding its seam, and thinking: oh. This is something.

Soldering is one of those skills that sounds intimidating until the moment it works, and then it becomes almost meditative. Heat. Flow. Join. There is a logic to it that satisfies something deep in my brain.

From there, I signed up for a two-day Jewelry 101 intensive for beginners. It was one of the best decisions I have ever made.

The Flower Ring That Started It All

In that intensive weekend class, I made a flower ring. Not a simple band with a flower stamped on it, but a fully dimensional, sculptural flower ring, complete with stamens tipped with tiny pearls.

My teacher was a specialist in kinetic jewelry, pieces that move, that have working parts, that surprise you. When I told her I wanted to go in that direction, I could see her eyes light up. She leaned in. She pushed me further. She gave me the confidence to reach for something more complex than a beginner had any business attempting.

I still think about that ring. It was so much fun to bring to life! 

A Life of Its Own

What happened after those classes was not a plan. It was a pull.

I watched thousands of hours of YouTube videos, metalsmiths in garages, in studios, in kitchens, and I learned something from every single one. I invested in equipment piece by piece. I made mistakes. I fixed them. I made new mistakes. I fixed those too.

Trial and error became my greatest teacher.

And somewhere in all of that, the heat and the hammering, the late nights and the learning, Rust & Leaf began to take shape. Not just as a jewelry brand, but as an identity. A language I did not know I had been trying to speak my whole life.

More Than Metalsmithing

Here is something people might not know about me: I love marketing just as much as I love making.

Graphic design, photography, branding, storytelling, these light me up in the same way a clean solder seam does. I stage my photos with intention. I design my own business cards and postcards. I spend probably too much time in Canva. No regrets.

For me, Rust & Leaf has never been just about the jewelry. It is about the whole world around it, the textures, the colors, the words, the feeling of opening a beautifully wrapped package and knowing someone made this for you. With their hands. On purpose.

That cohesion, between the making and the presenting and the storytelling, is something I have worked hard to build. And after ten years, it finally feels like home.

Ten Years. Really.

I am still a little amazed when I say that out loud.

Ten years of fire and silver. Ten years of leaves and flowers and bark textures and spinner rings and stone-set pendants. Ten years of customers who have become something more like friends, people who write to tell me they never take their piece off, or that they gave one to their daughter, or that they wore one on the hardest day of their life and it made them feel grounded.

That is why I do this.

Not for the perfect solder join (though I do love a perfect solder join). Not for the finished product sitting gleaming in a photo. But for the moment a piece finds its person and quietly becomes part of their story.

To You, Thank You

If you have worn a piece of Rust & Leaf jewelry, purchased one as a gift, shared a photo, written a review, or simply followed along on this journey, thank you. Genuinely, from the bench to your inbox to wherever you are reading this: thank you.

This year, I am celebrating ten years by sharing more of the story behind the studio. There will be more posts, more behind-the-scenes glimpses, and a few surprises along the way. I hope you will stay close.

We are just getting started.

With gratitude and silver dust,

Jen

Rust & Leaf  |  Artisan Sterling Silver Jewelry

If something calls to you, trust that feeling. The right piece has a way of finding you.