Waiting to Emerge
On Creativity and the Quiet Work Beneath the Surface
There are pieces that begin with a clear idea.
This wasn't one of them.
This one began with curiosity.
For a couple of years, an antique-inspired cicada wax seal sat on my workbench. Every so often I would take it out, admire it, and then put it away again. I knew I wanted to create something from it, but every idea felt like it was forcing the design instead of listening to it.
So I waited.
I didn't know what I was waiting for.
Only that I wasn't ready yet.
Then, while looking through a small parcel of gemstones I had recently brought home from a gem show, I picked up an oval tsavorite garnet.
Almost absentmindedly, I laid it over the cicada.
It fit perfectly.
Not almost.
Perfectly.
The tiny round tsavorite nestled naturally into the little raised circle near the bottom of the design, becoming the final punctuation mark that the composition had been quietly waiting for.
In that moment, years of uncertainty disappeared.
The piece suddenly knew what it wanted to become.
Working with silver clay always feels a little mysterious to me.
Fine particles of precious silver mixed with an organic binder begin as something surprisingly soft and fragile. Every line is carved, refined, sanded, and coaxed into place before the piece enters the kiln. Fire burns away everything temporary, leaving only solid silver behind.
This pendant, however, wasn't quite finished teaching me patience.
After firing, I soldered the large ring that allows the pendant to move freely on the chain. The heat damaged the original tsavorite, and I had to carefully remove it, rebuild the setting using fresh silver clay, and fire the stone into place a second time.
It wasn't what I had planned.
But handmade work rarely follows a perfectly straight path.
Sometimes the piece itself insists on showing you another way forward.
While I was making the pendant, I thought I was simply creating a cicada.
As I lived with it—making it, finishing it, photographing it—I realized it was quietly becoming something else.
I've always been drawn to symbols of transformation.
Moths have appeared in my jewelry for years. So have hares, trees, spiderwebs, and tiny wildflowers growing where no one expects them.
Looking back, I realize they all share something.
They're less about becoming someone different...
and more about becoming more fully yourself.
The cicada carries that story in a way that feels different from any other creature.
Unlike a butterfly, whose transformation happens quickly, a cicada spends years beneath the earth.
Hidden.
Growing.
Changing where no one can see.
Only when the time is right does it emerge into the light.
As I worked on this piece, I found myself thinking about the seventeen-year cicadas.
I've always felt an inexplicable affection for them. They emerged during my first year of life, and then again when I graduated from high school at seventeen. I can't explain why they feel like "my" cicadas.
They simply do.
Sometimes we don't choose our symbols.
Sometimes they quietly choose us.
When it came time to photograph the finished pendant, I reached for a fossil shell I had recently found.
I hadn't planned that, either.
The shell once protected life.
The cicada spends years hidden before emerging.
Suddenly, the photograph felt complete.
Only afterward did I realize why.
This pendant had quietly become a meditation on emergence.
Not dramatic transformation.
Not instant change.
But the slow, unseen work that happens beneath the surface before anything beautiful reveals itself.
Perhaps that's why I became so attached to it while I was making it.
Perhaps that's why it feels different from anything I've made before.
Or perhaps some pieces arrive carrying meanings that reveal themselves only if we're willing to listen.
If this little cicada speaks to you, I hope it reminds you that unseen seasons are never wasted.
Sometimes the most important parts of our lives are happening underground.
And sometimes...
the world is simply waiting for us to emerge.
About this piece
This one-of-a-kind cicada pendant was handcrafted in my Silver Spring, Maryland studio from fine silver using precious metal clay and set with vibrant green tsavorite garnets. Every piece I create is made in small batches—or, like this one, as a true one-of-a-kind—and carries its own subtle character and story.
If you'd like to see the finished pendant or explore more handmade talismans inspired by nature, transformation, and everyday magic, you can find them here.
Frequently Asked Questions
What does a cicada symbolize?
Cicadas are often associated with transformation, renewal, emergence, and cycles of change. Because they spend much of their lives developing underground before emerging into the light, they can also be a powerful symbol of patience, unseen growth, and trusting that change may be happening even when we cannot yet see it.
Why are cicadas associated with transformation?
A cicada's life cycle includes a long period spent underground as a nymph, followed by its emergence above ground and transformation into its winged adult form. To me, that makes the cicada especially meaningful as a symbol of the quiet inner work that can happen before we're ready to step into something new.
What do seventeen-year cicadas symbolize?
Periodical cicadas can spend thirteen or seventeen years underground before emerging together in enormous numbers. While there is no single universal symbolic meaning assigned specifically to seventeen-year cicadas, their extraordinary life cycle can evoke patience, timing, renewal, persistence, and the idea that growth continues even during long periods when nothing seems to be happening on the surface.
Why use a cicada as a symbol in jewelry?
Jewelry allows us to carry symbols physically with us. A cicada pendant can become a personal reminder of transformation, resilience, patience, or readiness to emerge after a period of unseen growth. I especially love symbols that can hold different meanings for different wearers.
What do the green gemstones in the cicada pendant represent?
I chose tsavorite garnets for this piece initially because the stones seemed to belong naturally within the design. Their vivid green also beautifully complements the cicada's symbolism for me, suggesting growth, vitality, and the living world. Sometimes the meaning of a design becomes clear only after the materials have found their place.
About Amy Abrams Designs
I'm Amy Abrams, a jewelry artist with more than 35 years of experience creating jewelry by hand and more than two decades working with precious metal clay. In my Silver Spring, Maryland studio, I create small-batch and one-of-a-kind jewelry in fine silver, sterling silver, bronze, copper, and gemstones.
My work is inspired by nature, antique designs, symbolism, and the idea of jewelry as a personal talisman. Each piece is made slowly and individually, with the small variations and traces of the hand that make handmade jewelry uniquely its own.