People assume I have a preference. And I do — it's just not the one they expect, because it isn't a preference for one over the other. It's a preference for both, for different reasons, in different moments, doing different things on the wire.
Let me explain.
What Stone Does
Natural stone carries weight — literal and otherwise. There's a density to a stone bead that glass rarely replicates, a sense that the thing in your hand has been somewhere, has a history that predates you by a significant margin. Amethyst formed in volcanic rock. Serpentine moved through the earth under pressure. Lapis was traded across ancient civilizations. You're not just wearing a color. You're wearing a record.
Stone is also honest in a way that I find deeply satisfying. No two beads are identical. The variation isn't a flaw — it's the point. When I string a strand of natural stone, I'm working with what the earth actually made, not what a factory decided it should look like. That unpredictability keeps me paying attention.
The limitation: stone can be expensive, heavy, and sometimes fragile. Certain stones scratch. Others fade. And the bead you fell in love with at the vendor's table may look completely different under your studio light at home. Stone requires knowing what you're buying, which takes time and experience to develop.
What Glass Does
Glass does things stone simply cannot. The color range is infinite — any hue, any saturation, any finish. Matte, glossy, iridescent, foiled, lampworked, pressed, fire-polished. Glass can be transparent or opaque, can catch light or absorb it, can look like water or like candy or like something from another planet entirely.
Glass is also consistent in a way that's genuinely useful. When I need twelve beads that are exactly the same size and color, glass delivers. When I need a bead that's a specific shade of sea-glass green that doesn't exist in nature, glass is the answer. It fills the gaps that stone leaves open.
And recycled glass — which I use whenever I can — brings its own kind of history. A bead made from reclaimed glass carries the story of what it was before. That matters to me. It fits the whole philosophy of the work: nothing wasted, everything transformed.
The limitation: glass can feel less substantial than stone, and some buyers notice. There's a perception that natural means better, which isn't always true but is always present. A glass bead has to earn its place on the wire through beauty and intention, not provenance.
Why I Use Both
The best bracelets I've made almost always have both. A stone focal — something with weight and history and that irreplaceable natural variation — surrounded by glass that does what the stone can't: provides the exact color, the exact finish, the exact supporting note the focal needs to become fully itself.
Stone sets the intention. Glass executes it.
They're not competing. They're collaborating. And the wire is where that collaboration happens.