To make space for what endures, some forms need to be undone. Not as opposition, but as release — a questioning of familiar structures and of how they shape our behavior and the atmospheres we inhabit. What remains is not order, but relation. Meaning settles as residue — traces of memory, of knowledge once held at a distance. Some stories were never absent, only waiting for a surface willing to receive them.

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Vessel is not made to contain, but to relate. A grounded yet slightly floating structure, shaped by hand in steel and cork, holding the tension between weight and softness, between steadiness and care.

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In stillness, it exists as possibility. What is placed upon it enters the work — not through order, but through openness. Vessel does not resolve. It holds space. A place to return, to linger, to remember otherwise. To exist, to bring meaning to objects, differently for each person.

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Conceived as a coffee table, Vessel invites books to remain open. Knowledge is not stored or displayed, but lived with. Once gathered by objects, knowledge here becomes part of the object itself — central, structural, quietly shaping how the piece exists and how it is used.