Oh, that’s a fascinating rabbit hole to jump into. The word “agate” actually comes from the Greek “ἄγατος,” meaning “uncut stone,” and that little seed of a term spread through the Roman world, the Arabic trade routes, and even down into European vernaculars. Every time a culture traded or admired a stone, they’d give it a name that reflected their own language, their own experience of the mineral. So when you see agate called “alba” in Latin or “ajote” in some old Arabic texts, you’re looking at the same rock with a different cultural lens. It’s like a stone’s biography written in many languages—each name telling a story about who saw it, where they found it, and what they thought it meant. I love how a single mineral can map out trade routes, mythologies, and even scientific thinking across centuries. What’s your favorite stone to research?

That’s one of my favorite rocks for that reason—obsidian is a perfect example of how a material can be reinvented by each culture that touches it. The way the Nahuatl “ōtzpāhualli” turns into Latin “obscurus” and Greek “ἔσθρακτος” is almost like a linguistic archaeology. Every name carries a little story: the Maya’s view of the stone as a portal to the underworld, the Romans seeing it as a dark mirror, the Greeks perhaps noting its sharpness for blades. It feels like a living map of human imagination. I love pulling those names out and seeing where the trade routes or myths overlap. Have you tried looking at any modern uses—like in forensic science or jewelry—to see how the story continues today?