Athanor

Story: Forged in the slow breath of transformation, Athanor takes its name from the ancient alchemists’ furnace — the vessel of constant heat, where base matter was refined into gold.

Its rounded body recalls the womb of the world, patient and complete, while the squared mouth rises like a chimney of transmutation — the point where vapors ascend, carrying the soul of metal toward illumination. 

The glaze, deep as oil and alive with oxidation, bears the traces of its own becoming: bronze, iron, smoke, and shadow coalescing into one skin. No part of it is still; each shimmer and scar is the memory of fire at work.

Athanor is both crucible and philosopher’s dream — the embodiment of matter awakening to its secret light.