Qin Xu shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.
Qin, a huge thanks to you for investing the time to share your wisdom with those who are seeking it. We think it’s so important for us to share stories with our neighbors, friends and community because knowledge multiples when we share with each other. Let’s jump in: Who are you learning from right now?
Right now, I find myself learning from two parallel forces: the women around me—and nature itself.
As I grow both personally and professionally, I’m constantly inspired by the quiet strength and resilience of women—friends, collaborators, and other creatives—who show me how to navigate life with creativity and conviction. Their stories, vulnerabilities, and unique forms of expression continue to shape my design practice and inform the way I build my brand.
In 2020, I founded ANCIENT FUTURE, a jewelry and storytelling project that has grown into a multi-layered expression of myth, emotion, and craftsmanship. Through the process of building this brand, I’ve also been learning from nature itself—how things evolve, decay, and renew. After years of working in big cities, I’m now shifting toward a slower, more grounded way of living, surrounded by mountains, rivers, and raw materials. This shift has deeply influenced my creative choices—from the textures I use to the stories I tell.
So I guess I’m not learning from a single person, but from a larger ecosystem of women and natural forces that continue to challenge and expand the way I think, feel, and create.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
My name is Qin Xu, and I’m a jewelry artist and the founder of ANCIENT FUTURE, a narrative-driven jewelry label I launched in 2020. Each piece I make is handmade and often infused with surreal symbolism, mythic references, and a deep emotional undercurrent. I like to think of my work as wearable storytelling—bridging the ancient and the imaginary with modern identity and emotion.
Before starting my brand, I studied and practiced across different creative fields, and I’ve always been drawn to objects that feel like they carry memory, meaning, or mystery. That’s how ANCIENT FUTURE was born—from a desire to create more than just accessories, but tiny, powerful worlds.
Over the past few years, the brand has grown from a personal studio practice into a broader creative platform. Our pieces have been worn by musicians, stylists, and artists around the world—and our community includes both young avant-garde jewelry lovers and thoughtful women seeking emotional resonance through objects.
Right now, I’m entering a new phase of creative work—relocating to a quieter, more nature-surrounded environment, and developing projects that explore female mythologies, natural symbolism, and handcrafted modularity. Whether it’s a ring inspired by the breath of a snake goddess, or a necklace that unfolds like a storybook, I want each piece to carry a kind of magic—and to speak to those who don’t want to wear what everyone else is wearing.
Great, so let’s dive into your journey a bit more. What was your earliest memory of feeling powerful?
One of my earliest memories of feeling powerful was as a child, quietly making things with my hands—cutting paper, stringing beads, building little secret worlds around. I didn’t have the words for it then, but I remember the rush of realizing that I could create something that didn’t exist before. That act felt magical—and completely mine.
I think that was the beginning of my relationship with power: not through volume or control, but through imagination and making. Over time, that instinct evolved into my work with jewelry. To me, designing and crafting an object from scratch still carries that same quiet power—the ability to turn a feeling, a dream, or a myth into something you can hold, wear, and carry with you.
What have been the defining wounds of your life—and how have you healed them?
Some wounds are loud, and some are quiet. For me, the most defining ones were the quiet kind—the feeling of not being understood, of carrying too many emotions in a world that prefers simplicity, clarity, control. Growing up, I often felt like I was too much and not enough at the same time. Too sensitive. Too intense. Too strange. Not obedient enough. Not explainable enough.
I tried to make sense of it by creating—objects, stories, symbols that could hold the things I didn’t know how to say. That’s how I began making jewelry: not to decorate, but to contain. Each piece became a small emotional artifact. A protection spell. A wound wrapped in metal.
I don’t think healing is a straight line. But over time, I’ve learned to stop editing myself for the sake of being palatable. I’ve learned that the things that once made me feel alien are the same things that now connect me to others. The more honest I am in my work, the less alone I feel—and maybe, the less alone someone else feels too.
I think our readers would appreciate hearing more about your values and what you think matters in life and career, etc. So our next question is along those lines. Is the public version of you the real you?
She is a real me—but not the whole of me.
The public version of me is a distilled reflection, like a shadow on metal or a myth told through jewelry. She feels, she creates, she dreams—but she’s also carefully assembled, like a wearable symbol meant to be seen. I think of her as a vessel—one that carries truth, but in fragments.
The private me is softer, messier, more silent. She works slowly. She feels everything deeply. She disappears often to recharge. But both versions are real—they just exist at different temperatures, in different lighting.
In fact, that’s why I make jewelry. I don’t always want to explain myself in words, but I want to be understood. So I speak through metal, stone, and shape. The pieces say what I can’t say out loud. In that sense, my public self is real—but encoded.
Before we go, we’d love to hear your thoughts on some longer-run, legacy type questions. What do you understand deeply that most people don’t?
That small things are not always small.
In a world obsessed with scale, speed, and visibility, I’ve come to understand that the tiniest details—an unfinished gesture, a shade of tarnished silver, a word left unsaid—can carry entire worlds. Power doesn’t always announce itself. Sometimes it whispers through a cracked gemstone, or the weight of a ring on a finger that trembles.
I work with objects that are often dismissed as decorative or secondary—jewelry, charms, fragments—but I see them as portals. They hold emotion, memory, protection, grief, and desire. I think many people overlook the depth of objects that sit closest to the body. But I’ve learned that intimacy is where truth hides.
So I pay attention to the overlooked. I believe in the symbolic weight of small things. And I think that’s where real magic often lives.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://ancientfuture.online/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/quin_xu/
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