Here , time slows down.

In the Forma Prima workshop, every gesture has its weight, every tool retains the memory of a contact.
The wax can be slowly shaped under the fingers.
The metal melts, stretches, tightens to the rhythm of breathing and gaze.

The workbenches are marked by days gone by.
Each mark on the table tells a fragment of history: a jewel in the making, a sparkle frozen in time.

I work in silence - or accompanied by the discreet breath of the blowtorch, the rubbing of files, the crackling of molten metal.
My gaze lingers on an imperfect curve, a texture born of an accident.
I let the material answer me, surprise me.

To create here is to listen.
It is a dialogue with matter.
Give her room to speak, to exist, without constraining her.
Welcome its rough edges as one gathers a memory.

Each piece retains the marks of its birth:
an imprint, a vibration, a singularity.
It becomes a trace, a vestige, a sensitive fragment to carry on oneself.

The workshop is a refuge.
A place where the hand and the eye take their time.
Where jewels are born with the calm of misty mornings,
the roughness of a found stone,
or the furtive glare of a ray on a tool.

This is where your jewelry takes shape,
in this slow dialogue between hand and matter.