There’s something poetic about a bridge.
It holds two worlds in its span—then and now, here and there, what was and what’s becoming.
It doesn’t rush. It simply connects. Steady. Unmoving. Strong.
I’ve always been drawn to them—not just for their shape, but for their symbolism.
A bridge doesn’t ask you to leap. It offers a path.
It invites you to cross, to trust your footing, to rise a little higher to get to where you’re going.
In my work, I return to this shape again and again—arches, cables, tension and grace.
It shows up in the curves of silver, the way metal bends with purpose.
Each piece is a reminder: you are not stuck. You are spanning.
You are building your own bridge, one step at a time.
And sometimes, beauty is the bridge.
Between chaos and calm. Between past and present.
Between who you were… and who you’re becoming.
Today, I stand in the middle, looking back and forward.
And I whisper: keep going.
—S.C.
GRATITUDE:
I am grateful for the bridges I’ve built—between past and present, fear and courage, who I was and who I’m becoming. For every quiet step forward, every graceful span, and the beauty of becoming my own crossing.