A few weeks ago at our reception for jewelry designer Bergio, some of our clients asked him how he conceived of his designs.  His reply was, “I get an idea, I sketch it and then I fax it to the factory in Italy.  They look at it, work out what is practical to make, then send me their version of my sketch.  I approve it if I like it; if I don’t, I send them another version of my first sketch and we start all over again.  We do this until I like their proposal, then we make it”  Some of his listeners accepted this, but others saw it as a “contamination” of the creative process.  For them let me relate a story about Andy Warhol often told by the late Harry Boros, a Chicago Professor of Classics and art critic.  Back in the 1960’s Andy made the cover of “Time” magazine and his fame led a wealthy Long Island matron to ask him to do her portrait.  He quoted a price of $70,000 for the commission; and she agreed.  Then she asked when she must “sit” for her portrait.  Andy averred that she would not have to “sit” but that she would have to meet him in New York’s Grand Central Station. She asked if that was all, and Andy replied, “No, bring as many quarters as you can with you.”  Knowing that Andy was “experimental” in his approach to art, she asked no questions and met him in Grand Central Station on the day they had agreed – with a purse full of quarters.  “What now?” she asked.  Andy pointed to a nearby “photomat” machine and told her to go into and take pictures of herself, in any poses she wanted, until she ran out of quarters.  Fifty-four pictures later she emerged from the booth and proffered them to Andy; but instead of taking them, he asked a question.  “Did you drive into the city or did you take the train?”  “I drove,” she replied.  Then, instead of accepting the pictures, Andy asked her if she would mind taking them to a commercial photo studio with which he did business.  She good naturedly agreed, asking only, “What should I tell them?”  “Just that I’ll call later with instructions,” Andy replied.  She did as she had been asked and Andy phoned the studio, instructing them to make a large portrait sized print of each of the pictures and call him when they were done.  When the prints were done and Andy was called he asked the studio, “Do you deliver?”  When they answered in the positive he instructed them to deliver them to a “silk screening” shop he worked with.  “What should I tell them?” the foreman asked.  Andy said, “Don’t worry.  I’ll call them with instructions.”  The foreman delivered the pictures before Andy could make his call; so the foreman of the silk screening shop called him and asked, “Mr. Warhol, what should I do with these pictures?”  “Just line them up against the wall, have your workers file by and let them vote on the one they like best,” he instructed.  “Mr. Warhol!” remonstrated the foreman, “There are so many pictures that that will take all day!”  Andy thought a minute, “You’re right.  Number them 1 through 54; put the numbers in a hat and then have someone select 45 of them at random.”  With a sigh, the foreman gave up, asking, “Then what?”  Andy blithely replied, “Stand them up against the wall; let your workers file by and then vote on the one they like best.”  Knowing he was beaten, the foreman went to the next stage of the project, “Then what?”  “Silk screen the one that got the most votes.”  “What colors should I use?” asked the mystified foreman.  Andy replied with a question, “Have you done any big jobs lately?”  “Yes,” the foreman replied.  “Use the left over colors.  I’ll have a fine canvas delivered to you and you can silk screen it on that.  Call me when you’re done.”  The foreman did everything he was asked and called Andy, “It’s ready to be picked up.”  “Do you deliver?” asked Andy.  “We can,” the foreman responded.  “I’ll call you back with delivery instructions in a few minutes,” said Andy.  He called his client.  They agreed on a day and time, then Andy told her, “It’ll be framed and wrapped, but don’t unwrap it until I get there the next day.  We’ll unwrap it together and then I’ll sign it.”  Andy phoned the silk screening shop and gave them his instructions, and on the appointed day it was delivered.  The following day Andy arrived and he and his client unwrapped the picture together.  He signed it, touching it, and for that matter, any aspect of its creation, for the very first time.  She gave him her check, and he left.  The question raised by the late Harry Boros?  Was it art?  As it was wholly the creation of Andy Warhol’s imagination, Harry Boros insisted it was – as are Bergio’s designs.

For that matter, one might consider the Hearts On Fire diamond a work of art.  In a craft that usually cuts diamonds for weight, not beauty, the Hearts On Fire diamond is cut exclusively for all of the beauty that art, science and technology can draw from a diamond – and it is blindingly, breathtakingly beautiful.  Many hands may do the work, but only one ideal drives them – perfection.  Celebrate your life and your love with the Hearts On Fire!  As with any other work of art, it will uplift your spirits; and if you give it to the woman you share your life with, it will tell her you hold her apart and above all others.  That’s about the most romantic statement you can make, and Hearts On Fire does it so perfectly that you won’t have to say a word.  Check out our Hearts On Fire collection on line; then phone us at 708.788.0880 for an appointment to select the very best Hearts On Fire for you.  We’re Hursts’ Berwyn Jewelers and our job is realizing your dreams.