Baharak

I live in Seattle and run a small custom jewelry studio out of my loft. Most days I am soldering tiny gold hoops or knotting silk cords while the rain hits the skylight. I grew up in Portland, learned the trade from an aunt who made pieces for brides, and moved here six years ago when a gallery offered me a corner. Last summer my best friend dragged me on a camping trip to the coast and I came back with salt in my hair and a new tattoo on my hip. Right now I am trying to finish a custom cuff for a client before her wedding and keep telling myself I will start that oil painting class in the fall. When I am not at the bench I am usually in the kitchen at two in the morning making tahdig or curled on the sofa watching old Iranian films with the subtitles on. I like men who notice small things. The way I tuck my hair behind my ear when I am thinking, the scar on my knee from a bike fall when I was twelve, the way my voice drops when I am turned on. I want someone who will meet me halfway and then a little further.