A void opens up in the heart of matter.
Not as a lack, but as a threshold.

A clean mark cuts into the surface without dividing it.
The margin does not separate: it protects.

The shape bends to welcome the light.
The wound becomes space, breath, measured silence.

In Rome — Void ceramics retain a layered memory.
It does not represent a city, but evokes its absence:
trace of an interior architecture that does not build walls,
but it makes visible what is missing.