Sneg & Artefacto
Sneg
I was just watching a leaf drift past the window, catching the light for a split second before it fell. It made me think about how we both try to freeze a moment—your clay takes the shape of your hand, I try to catch the same breath of light. How do you feel about that—trying to capture something that never really stays the same?
Artefacto
I feel it like the way the clay presses against my palm, a small, stubborn thing that still moves. We both chase a breath that slips, only to find it in the quiet cracks of the stone or in the space between two leaf edges. The effort is part of the art, even if the moment never really stays still.
Sneg
I get that—the clay's resistance is like a whisper you can almost hear. And sometimes the only place you catch that breath is in the thin gaps where light falls, like a secret hinge in a stone wall. It’s a good thing we keep chasing it, even if it never holds for long.
Artefacto
It feels like a quiet pact—every touch of clay, every fleeting ray, a reminder that we’re only here to feel the pulse, not to hold it. The chase itself is what shapes us.