Scroll. Click. Repeat.
Meetings blurred into screen time,
days into deadlines.One winter,
I left everything behind and traveled alone to a small mountain village.
There, a local potter invited me into his workshop.
I watched as clay turned slowly on his wheel— No noise. No rush.
Just quiet magic.
That evening,
he showed me his glazes.
They weren’t store-bought powders,
but the raw minerals he had collected by hand.
He called them
“the fingerprints of the earth.”
When he opened the kiln, I was stunned. Same glaze. Same clay. Same hands. Yet—each piece came out just a little different.He smiled and said,
“That’s the magic of stone, water, and fire.”I was captivated. Each firing felt like a roll of the dice.
You could never order the same dish twice.And that’s where this brand began.
A quiet rebellion against mass production. A choice to embrace the unrepeatable.
Not perfect—just real.