Here was my inspiration at the time: I was trying to copy a ring I saw on Etsy. There were a couple of people on there making a tight braided steel ring and I thought that me trying to imitate their work would lead to something cool.

My first attempt left me both laughing and a bit disappointed. I wasn't able to recreate the ring I set out to for a few months after my initial attempt.

However, I started to think about twists. My mind was still fresh on electrical work. And a large part of my electrician's apprentice's role was splicing (twisting wire together to create continuity within a circuit).

Twists in smithing are a bit different. They're often seen in the ornaments under railings or in some fences. It’s also used in the handles of some tools if the handle is made of metal. I’ve made some pretty spoons, forks and spatulas with twists in the neck. I still believe I made the best ice scream spoon in the world because of how strong the neck of the spoon is. But, I digress.

As I started thinking about twists, I got the idea for a split ring (a band that isn’t fully connected). Because we don’t weld or soldier anything, the band would remain unjoined. This split design would allow me to make twists that could add a pleasing texture to a ring.

So I took a section of round bar (picture a circle extended indefinitely till it becomes a long rod) and hammered it semi-flat. I knew I had to do this because early attempts of twisting a round bar yielded just that: a round bar. There was no pattern to twist into. It left me with a slightly shifted cylinder and a sense of "oh yeah that makes perfect sense."

I brought this heated and, previously mentioned, flattened section of round bar to a vise. I screwed the tip of one end in. Then used a pair of wrenches at the opposite end to twist the bar. The base pattern for daggers only becomes apparent after it’s twisted.

I cut and grinded down the edges and hammered the ring until the ends met. I actually wore this ring on my pinky for a while. Though I can’t recall where it ended up.

I have a lot of rings.

But there was something to this design that didn’t do it for me.

So I made another one. This time I had a bit too much ring. The ends went too far past one another, and it would have been too big for me to wear. My biggest knuckle is my thumb and that caps out at about a 12. This ring would have been about a 14.

At the time, I was fascinated with scrolls. These are another blacksmith ornamentation that involves curling the metal inward toward itself. All the pretty scrolls closely follow the golden ratio— seen in the beautiful spirals of growth that appear again and again in nature. These are also seen in hand rail ornamentation, table legs, fences, gates, porticos, etc. They are beautiful when done well and there’s a reason they’ve hung around till today. So my mind was on curves, and after looking at my rather straight ring, I thought this could be a solution to a drab design. In hindsight, it's ironic how I set out to incorporate scrollwork and instead ended up with finishing ornamentation as sharp as daggers.

I curled the too long ends of this ring, and the first Dagger ring was born. The early renditions didn’t have points however, they were completely blunted. While I’m constantly learning new things, at that point in my craft, making a sharp looking edge that didn’t cut my finger was hard. Even harder was the iconic and delicate curve of the ends of the piece. As a blacksmith jeweler's skill progresses, the world literally rises to meet us.

New beautiful rings become the rule, no longer a product of luck.

If I'm being honest, this here is my favorite part of the craft. Not making existing designs or writing blog posts, but developing new pieces that inspire me. It's creation that allows a beautiful part of me to blossom into the world. And also to connect with something close to the divine.