Remembering James Stark

I first met James Stark decades ago, when I was still deep in the jewelry business and he was deep in the soil. He and his partner Penny had built this incredible garden in California, full of fruit and vegetables. And when I visited, we sat down and I asked him: “You’re growing food, I’m making jewelry. How do we connect around that?”

That question led James to Bali.

When he arrived, we had just built the John Hardy factory, and some guy had planted a lot of bushes. James took one look and said, “These bushes aren’t food.” He was right. We were feeding 500 workers every day, and it made no sense to buy food when we had the land to grow it. So we ripped out the bushes, sent them back to the ‘bush store’, and started growing food.

That’s what James did. He saw the obvious. He cut through the nonsense. He helped turn empty land into something nourishing; for people, for animals, for the earth.

Over the years, James became more than a friend. He was a guide. He reminded me that growing food isn’t just about survival; it’s about connection. It’s about kids feeding pigs with scraps and watching ducks in the rice fields. It’s about making sure we’re not competing with the local market in tough times, but contributing to it.

James passed away recently. I’ll miss his humor, his stubbornness, and the way he could look at a patch of dirt and see dinner, community, and hope.

Thank you, James. For the food. For the lessons. For the friendship.