Jeweler Heather Wells
My name is Heather Wells, and I repurpose vintage objects and make flower creations to enhance the natural beauty of bodies and spaces through hair accessories, one-of-a-kind jewelry, and lighting.
I have always been creative, and art has always been my happy place—but during my childhood, it was my mother who taught me to respect and repurpose the past. She saved little bits and pieces that my grandmother had saved before her, like take-out containers and milk jugs that had survived the Great Depression. I learned to value the histories of material objects and was deeply inspired to immortalize the past in present and beautiful creations.
While I focused on the past and the future, I paid little attention to the trends of my youth. Keenly aware that I did not fit in with typical adolescent hobbies, I was confident in my differences. I wore dreadlocks, attended summer art camp, played no sports, and looked for my tribe of fellow “weirdos” everywhere I went. Grateful for the loving support of my parents, I followed my artistic pursuits at Rhode Island Institute of Design (RISD), where I majored in textiles—a craft that is generally conducive to obsessive behaviors and involves collecting materials, weaving strange things together, and upcycling.
For my senior year’s final project, I was assigned to design a space. I created a kitchen with fruits, tiles, and lighting made of cocktail umbrellas. Though I was initially discouraged, the lighting was well-received, and I was given a reward that led me to create lighting for the next ten years of my life. This decade, determined by light and space, brought me all over the country to wholesale markets, craft shows, and the indie craft scene, where I met other grassroot artists.
It was during a presentation to a widow’s group that I met the person who would define the following decade of my life. It was a woman I had actually known since I was a little girl—a woman who continued to interrupt my speech in order to talk about herself and what she thought of my art work. Though the other audience members were annoyed, I was intrigued. This woman’s name was Jane Hutcheson; she was in her late eighties and had been forced to abandon her art career after losing dexterity in her hands. In her attic, there were boxes and boxes of gold-plated flower elements she could no longer weave into the beautiful arrangements that had distinguished her life’s work as a successful female artist.
She gave me a box and said, show me what you can do. That was the start of an intense mentorship that became a beautiful friendship. She trusted me to bring new meaning to her unfinished work and immortalize her creations through my own modern interpretations.
I named my business Heart of Gold in Jane’s memory. She was open and trusting in a world that often involved ego, ownership, and secrecy. I want to honor her, her work, and the way in which she forever changed me.
I carry her legacy, but I am also actively creating my own. Jane produced traditional and expensive flower arrangements, which aimed to represent family heirlooms that could be passed down from generation to generation. While I greatly admire the beauty and skill contained in each of her creations, I want my work to be more accessible and usable. In this spirit, I maintained the intimacy of her flower motifs,
but arranged them into head and body accessories—like hair accessories and jewelry—which often become bridal pieces. I truly believe art should be accessible to everyone: I work closely with brides in order to create a work of art that is within their budget, pays homage to Jane, showcases my artistic ability, and exceeds the commissioned expectations. I am proud to see my work in dozens of editorial pieces and photo shoots, including many with South Korean Boutiques.
Despite my success and reputation, I have faced several difficulties. Since my work is material, voluminous, and often involves hoarding vintage objects from estate sales, I have had trouble finding an adequate studio space. It has also been difficult to balance my engagement with the public. As a small, one-woman business, I am often disrespected by individuals that steal my ideas and stores that do not pay me. I try to carry Jane’s trust and love within me, but it is difficult to continue having faith in the public after repeated issues that I cannot afford to solve in court.
Art is fundamentally complicated because it surpasses the work of an individual and relies on the connection—and trust—of many people. Take lighting, for example. Lighting is not just a piece of art; it serves the function of illuminating shared spaces and shared relationships. It depends upon agreements between people, and my work with photographers, models, and clients is much the same. Trust and reliance are critical elements in any artistic pursuit, and, to this day, I struggle to strike a balance between engaging in collaborative projects and safeguarding my work. Unfortunately, the stereotype of the struggling artist is true; leading a successful art business is hard.
You know going into a small business is not going to be easy, but, ultimately, the impact of being able to say, “this is my life’s work,” is awesome. Part of the creative process is doubt, but being an artist is my identity.
Thank you,
Heather