A workshop at the edge of the woods
House of Fern began the way most good things do: by accident, on a walk. A bent piece of fence wire, picked up and idly curled into the shape of a fern, refused to be thrown away. It sat on a windowsill for a year. Then it asked for company.
The Craft, Start to Finish
The Walk
Every piece begins outside — a frond, a seed head, a violet pressed between the pages of the workshop book.
The Drawing
Pressed findings become pencil sketches. Wire has opinions, so the drawings stay loose and forgiving.
The Bending
A single strand of wire is coiled, crossed and woven around pearls and crystal. No solder, no molds — only patience.
The Letter
Each finished treasure is wrapped in linen, sealed with a wax fern, and posted with a handwritten note.
Wire Wrapping, Gently Explained
No two pieces are identical, because no two hands-widths of wire behave the same way twice.
Choosing the wire
Bronze for warmth, silver for moonlight, green patina for leaves that never fade.
The first coil
The fiddlehead moment — the first bend decides the character of the whole piece.
Weaving
Finer wire wraps the frame, coil by coil, several hundred passes for a single cuff.
Setting the treasure
A pearl or crystal is nested in last, so the wire closes around it like a seed pod.
Grown from the garden
Ferns for patience, wildflowers for joy, moonlight for the quiet hours at the bench. If you would like to see what the garden has been growing lately, the collections are always open.