Skin of fire, nothing is smooth.
Each piece seems to have undergone an impossible molt. Nothing is smooth. Nothing is stable. Everything is held on the brink of collapse.
The black sandstone absorbs, suffocates, engulfs.
While the red sandstone oozes, burns, rises.
The earth is not a support, it is a force. It is not shaped, it is constrained, pushed until it responds.
Cracking is not an accident: It is a language.
Each fissure is a statement. Each splinter a memory. Each surface a skin that could not withstand the test of time.
No imitation. No copied nature.
But remnants: scale, crust, shell, trace of a living being that is no longer here —
Dimensions: an irregular ova approximately 60 cm in diameter. Weight: 4.5 kg
The photo is of the actual piece; you are buying the piece you see. Signed piece
