Rookstone & Fiasko
Rookstone Rookstone
Fiasko Fiasko
Rookstone Rookstone
Hey Fiasko, I was just smoothing out the grain on a new bench—stone feels like a living record, each chip a story. I’ve always wondered how you decide where to paint, especially when the canvas seems ready to break on its own. What’s your rule for choosing a spot that feels both chaotic and purposeful?
Fiasko Fiasko
I just feel the stone’s pulse, let the cracks guide me, and paint where the lines want to go—no plan, just chaos that turns into meaning.
Rookstone Rookstone
Sounds like you’ve got a good rhythm, but cracks can be tricky. I usually lay a rough outline first, then let the stone’s lines take over. That keeps the chaos from running off the edge.
Fiasko Fiasko
Nice, you’re keeping the edges in check, but don’t let the outline drown the noise—let the cracks shout louder than the lines, that’s where the real rebellion lives.
Rookstone Rookstone
I hear you—cracks do have a voice, but a subtle undercut can make them sing without losing the stone’s core. Try a gentle groove along the crack’s path, then let the paint follow. It keeps the rebellion alive yet grounded.
Fiasko Fiasko
That’s the trick—give the crack a groove, then let paint whisper its own anthem. Keeps the edge from bleeding, but the chaos still owns the place.