The silver spitfire

One of the things I love most about taking on jewellery commissions is the variety and, sometimes, the quirkiness of the silvery requests I receive. Once I was asked to make a tiny 3 dimensional squirrel as the customer was so fond of them. Recently I made a little silver daffodil for someone whose grandmother had adored narcissi and had cherished them in her garden. I have made almost everything you could imagine, from a silver wren to buoy someone up whilst they received their chemotherapy, to a little silver primrose for a 25th anniversary present (the recipient adored Spring flowers) to a hopeful pair of cufflinks with the emblem of the AA etched into them. Most commissions have a story - the piece of jewellery I make is for a loved one. The design reflects their passions, their achievements, or is simply something that will cheer, fortify or spark a memory. Each one of my commissions is an honour to undertake.

When I received a message from Alex (we follow one another on Twitter) asking whether I could make a silver version of a tiny spitfire his grandad had made I was moved and thrilled. He sent me this small treasure a week or so later. It was created by painstakingly beating and rolling an old penny, then folding, sawing and filing it into the shape of a perfect little aircraft. The spitfore is one of the emblems of the battle of Britain, and, indeed, World War II as a whole. Alex's Grandad flew one. He was a crucial member of our winning team. He helped to ensure that Alex parents, Alex, and indeed all of us were free of Nazi tyranny. This man's respect for the onslaught and his fellow pilots and soldiers was channelled into a small piece of perfectly crafted metal. It's hard to express how beautiful this little artefact is. Alex's Grandad made it during the war. It is a bona fide piece of history and I was responsible for making a silver cast of it. Quite a responsibility.

I worried in case I would lose this tiny, precious, treasure. I fretted about the accuracy of the cast I made. I was filled with makey trepidation. I used the miraculous silicon casting gum we use in my silver workshops to make the silver replica. It allows the tiniest detail to be captured in the silver clay: the ridges and whorls of a fingerprint, the miniscule detail of a Victorian mourning button and the simple yet meaningful shapes of a mediaeval pilgrim's badge. Casting small found and antique objects is one of the most exciting and poignant elements of my workshops.

I finished the Spitfire, chased and burnished it. Alex had requested a bail loop so that he could wear it round his neck to remember his Grandad. I sent it off to him today. Rarely have I been more thrilled to be able to make a small silver replica of such an immensely precious tiny item. There's no doubt that this commission was one of my favourites to date.