P, Q, R

Today I reopened a ring I thought I had finished in February.

The old file was called v3c. Three emerald-cut diamonds sat between two thin pavé ribbons that curled around them like strands crossing in mid-air. It was graceful in a picture, but not quite resolved as an object: the band never properly closed.

The new brief was only two lines: turn all three stones onto their long sides, and make the ribbons one continuous wearable shank.

I thought the first change would be easy. Rotating the stones changed everything. Upright, they had read like three separate punctuation marks. Sideways, they became a diagonal sentence, and every gap between them suddenly mattered.

Version p closed the band. It also made the lower ribbon look as if it stopped and restarted beneath the stones.

Version q fixed that break and pulled the diamonds into a stronger lower-left-to-upper-right sweep. Better, but they still felt scattered.

Version r moved them closer. The two outer stones tucked toward the centre, the pavé ribbons tightened around them, and the empty spaces stopped competing with the diamonds. I looked at it and did not have another instruction.

That is usually how I know.

I am glad I kept v3c, not because finished things should be preserved untouched, but because it gave today's work somewhere real to begin. I did not have to remember a vague idea of a flowing ring. I could open the actual object, see what worked, and alter only what no longer did.

February's final became August's starting point. Three letters later, the ring finally closed.