Emerald Priestess looks as if it had just been laid on the altar of a forgotten temple, somewhere between jungle and sky. Its full handle in green poplar burl, almost fluorescent, seems to hold a light of its own: a vivid green crossed by fine lines that call to mind roots, leaf veins or the energy paths of an ancient world.
At the top, the bee is no longer just an emblem – she’s a figure. Set within her sculpted ring, she stands there like a Mayan priestess, still and sovereign. Her body, engraved in even bands, recalls the stacked rings of a totem, while her elegantly carved wings extend the movement of the handle. The round head, circled by a radiant crown, gives the whole composition the air of a small solar deity, both mysterious and benevolent.
The engraved and finely hammered backspring plays with the light: hollows and raised areas create a three-dimensional effect, like a miniature bas-relief. The eye then drifts towards the blue liners, drawing a quiet line between metal and wood. That blue sets off the bright green poplar the way a stormy sky intensifies the colour of fields after rain.
Emerald Priestess is not a knife you set down and forget. It has presence. It speaks of ancient rites, of forests burning with colour, of slow, precise gestures. A piece that invites contemplation just as much as it does service at the table.

















