Who doesn't like a trilobite?

Trilobites have always fascinated me. Their intricate structures feel almost alien, despite being entirely natural. Their shells already seem to possess many of the qualities I look for in sculpture: a strong silhouette, deep relief, repeating forms, and surfaces that would respond beautifully to light and shadow in metal. Eventually, I began imagining what a trilobite might become in my chosen medium: silver.

Close-up of a fossil trilobite with long curved spines and a strongly segmented body

One of the features that drew me in most was the sweeping curve of the cephalic brim found in some species. It creates a bold and unmistakable silhouette, almost like a shield pressed close to the surface. The form feels both protective and streamlined, and I knew that these qualities had to remain central to my own interpretation.

Black trilobite fossil with a broad shield-like head and two sweeping horn-like projections.

Side view of a trilobite fossil showing the wide curved head shield and ridged segmented body.

To explore this compositional form further, I started looking through pictures of other animals with the same broad, protective silhouette.

The horseshoe crab offers an especially striking parallel, with its shield-like body and distinctly prehistoric presence.

Horseshoe crab, Tachypleus gigas, resting on sand.

A curious part of this study was beginning to notice variations of that same visual logic in animals far removed from trilobites. Broad protective structures, articulated sections, pronounced horns, and almost dinosaur-like silhouettes began turning up in some unexpected places once I started looking for them.

I ended up collecting quite a folder of examples.

Horned lizard with a broad flattened body and pronounced spikes around its head.

Ray viewed from above, showing its broad wing-like body and long tapering tail. — Photo © Andy Murch, Big Fish Expeditions.

Horned lizard viewed from above, showing its wide body, pointed scales, and rounded silhouette. — Photo © Andy Murch, Big Fish Expeditions.

Look at this tortoise beetle, such a natural jewel. Notice its body beneath the semi-translucent shell. It is fascinating to see how this glass-like dome transforms the familiar outline of a beetle into such a refined, futuristic design.

Tortoise beetle on a leaf, showing its metallic body beneath a wide semi-translucent shell.

Looking through these examples helped me clarify what I wanted to carry into my own design: the shield-like silhouette, the articulated structure, and that slightly strange balance between something ancient and something almost futuristic.

These qualities began to take shape in the very first five-minute sketch of the trilobite necklace. The broad, sweeping head appeared immediately and stayed with the design all the way through to the master model.

Constructing the master model, I built its underlying structure around two defining lines: the central axis and the sweeping arc of the horns. Together, they established the framework for the symmetry and overall movement of the form.

Strong bilateral symmetry is one of the first things that stands out in a trilobite. It holds the complexity of the body together, while the repeated arches of its segments carry that order through the form as rhythm.

Next time, I’ll share how the master model continues to develop, and how the piece begins to take shape in silver.