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Ciaran doesn’t rush this one. Most pieces come together quickly in his hands, muscle memory carrying him through, but this one resists that. The pattern is clean, almost severe, an d every ring has to sit exactly right or it throws the whole line off. Black and pale fall into place in measured intervals, nothing random about it. When he finally adds the small moon, it feels less like decoration and more like a point everything else has been leading to.He turns it once in the light. It doesn’t shine the way others do. It holds itself back, gives just enough to define the shape and no more. When he’s done, Ciaran leaves it on the edge of the table, half in the light. Close enough to take without needing permission. Show more