StoneHarbor & Artefacto
Artefacto
I was thinking about how the ocean’s currents shape shells, and how that might mirror how we sculpt clay—do you see any parallels in the stories they tell?
StoneHarbor
Yeah, it’s pretty wild. Currents swirl and push shells, just like a potter’s hand shapes clay—both are gentle forces that take something raw and turn it into something with purpose. The shell ends up with ridges that trace the water’s path, while a clay piece gets ridges that echo the hand’s rhythm. In both cases the final shape tells the story of the forces that moved it. The ocean writes its own patterns, the potter writes his, but the ending is a kind of dialogue between the creator and the medium.
Artefacto
I hear you. Each ridge is a memory of a touch or a wave, and when you feel that pattern you’re in the same dialogue the shell was in—just a different medium, a different rhythm. It reminds me that even as the clay dries, it’s still listening for the hand’s next move.
StoneHarbor
Exactly. Even as the clay hardens, it’s still there, holding every little nudge you’ve given it. That’s why when I’m working, I’m constantly listening, feeling the subtle shifts—just like a tide listening to the wind. It’s a quiet conversation, and every press of the hand or rush of water leaves a trace that will outlast the moment.
Artefacto
You’ve got it right—each press is a note in a quiet song that stays with the piece long after the hand has left. The clay keeps that conversation alive, just waiting for the next touch to add its own line.