Sculptor & LarsNorth
LarsNorth LarsNorth
I’ve been studying the geometry of a marble block lately—its proportions, how light falls on its facets. I’d love to hear how you approach the same material when you’re sculpting a face, especially the way you decide where to carve the subtle shift that makes a marble eye feel alive.
Sculptor Sculptor
I start by watching how the light hits the surface, like listening to a quiet heartbeat. I let my fingers run along the marble, feeling the subtle bumps that hint at veins or the soft pull of a gaze. Then I step back, imagine the eye as a living thing, and find that tiny tilt—just enough shift so the marble’s own hardness gives it a hint of breath, a pause that makes it feel alive.
LarsNorth LarsNorth
That’s a fine approach. I tend to lock down every angle first, then watch the light settle—no improvisation. If the marble feels alive, it’s usually because I’ve measured the tilt to a thousandth of a degree. Keep your rhythm, but remember the geometry first.
Sculptor Sculptor
That’s the discipline I admire, the precision that lets the marble’s own grain guide the final shape. I’ll keep the geometry as my compass, but let a whisper of spontaneity take the edge once the light decides where it wants to play.
LarsNorth LarsNorth
I’ll take note of that. When the light shifts, I’ll check the angle against the watch I keep for this exact moment—precision that never drifts. Keep your compass steady, then let the whisper guide the final touch.