An Empty Ballroom at Dawn

Ballrooms are built for evenings, but they belong to the mornings. At seven o'clock, with the mist still on the windows and the parquet catching the first champagne-colored light, an empty ballroom is a lake indoors.

The chandelier does its finest work then, unwatched — taking one color of light and returning it as forty.

This is roughly our entire philosophy of jewelry. A piece should not perform. It should stand in an ordinary morning and quietly return more light than it was given.

The dancing is optional. The light is not.