There are places that stay with you long after you’ve left them. For me, that place has always been the Highlands of Scotland.
The name Patience has been a well-known family name in the Highlands for centuries. My mother’s family is from a wee fishing village on the Black Isle; a beautiful peninsula just north of Inverness. I was born up there and it remains very close to my heart. It’s a place that's helped shape my identity and how I see the world.
Through my rose-tinted glasses, I don’t remember it being cold or rainy. I remember swimming in the sea, watching dolphins from the point and searching for fairies in the forest. Days were shaped by light, weather and curiosity rather than schedules. There was time to donder and let things unfold in their own way.
That sensibility has never left me. It shows up in how I design; in the importance I place on finding the right gemstone, allowing a design to evolve rather than forcing it and trusting that not everything needs to be hurried into being. I’ve always believed that jewellery should feel considered, not contrived - shaped by attention rather than urgency.
The Highlands have a way of encouraging perspective. Beauty reveals itself slowly through shifting light, texture and tone rather than spectacle. I think that’s why understatement feels so natural to me; it’s not about holding back, but about knowing when something has already said enough.
When I sit down to design, I’m not consciously trying to reference the Highlands. But they are always there in the pace of my work, the choices I make and in the value I place on restraint. Jewellery, to me, should have depth. It should feel rooted - connected to material, to maker, and to the life it’s made for.
I don’t see my work as an expression of place in an obvious sense. Instead, it’s shaped by temperament, patience, integrity and respect. These are things I absorbed early on without realising I was learning them.
