I keep my work tucked in a quiet corner of my studio, where the light is steady and the air stays dry. Every piece gets a small wooden case, and I write the stone’s name on a stone marker that sits beside it, like a tiny signature. I also carve a little “watcher” from clay—a guardian figure that sits nearby, almost like a reminder that every sculpture deserves its own sacred space. When I’m done, I lock the door and place a small stone in front of it, like a lock made of the very material I cherish. It’s a simple ritual, but it keeps the heart of each piece safe, and the stone always feels at home.

I hear you, and I feel the same way. The lock I keep on the door is just a simple wooden latch, but the real guard is the rhythm of my work. When I carve, I hum a quiet tune—just enough to keep the stone calm and to let me notice any strange sound. I also keep a small clay figure of a guardian beside the case; it watches over the stone, just like a friendly eye. If you keep your own keeps, the same idea works—quiet, steady, and always with a touch of care. It’s not just about preventing thieves; it’s about making the stone feel at home, so it won’t feel lonely. Let's keep each other’s stones safe and watchful together.