As I take your hand in mine you will feel the warm radiating metal of my rings and precious gems that adorn my fingers and clasp my wrists. So frail and delicate this epidermal veil that holds our precious blood essence inside of us and through each gold and silver ringlet that is on my hand carries a portion of the deepest secrets and beauty that lives deep inside the granite pressure of the planet. Allow the moon to touch the inside of the earth through the rings on my pale white hands. These small hands hold the blade which can end a life so easily and hold a baby so softly and comforting. The choice is yours.

The rings on my fingers are the devices of my work and are the mystical ingredient in this recipe of my Gothic life. The skulls and the bones and the single open lidless eye are the memories of the friends and lovers I have lusted on and left behind during my lonely waking life, this small stretch of time I occupy. The elasticity of time is what I wrap around my ankles and around my legs and across my palms in these jewels and with these rings of promise and deception.

Let each symbol be your own as I let my heart choose the colors and species of my alliances. Follow no-one and let your hands, that unique aspect of your humanity, be decorated to reflect the truth that is inside your soul be it a dark lonely place of misery or a light and open field of flowers and butterflies crowding onto stained glass. The choice is yours.