![N00DLE [ made ]](http://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/69dea82dd2729579982612a2/7f21f7df-2712-4491-a130-e6f8db5f4c4d/Screenshot+2026-04-14+12.58.58+PM.png?format=1500w)
Here, where the salt winds of Narragansett Bay carve the coast, we understand the quiet language of tension.
Like the ribbed cedar hulls of old Bristol skiffs, the wood stands firm, bearing the deliberate scars of its making. A gleaming brass stay—taut as a ship's halyard in a summer squall—holds the heavy memory of the tide: a single, smooth stone plucked from our rocky shores. Suspended beneath the reaching brambles, it mimics the precarious grace of the East Bay itself—an anchor of earth, held aloft by a slender thread, forever caught between the deep pull of the water and the breath of the sky.
hazelnut, fir, brass & granite
2 × 3 × 18”h
Here, where the salt winds of Narragansett Bay carve the coast, we understand the quiet language of tension.
Like the ribbed cedar hulls of old Bristol skiffs, the wood stands firm, bearing the deliberate scars of its making. A gleaming brass stay—taut as a ship's halyard in a summer squall—holds the heavy memory of the tide: a single, smooth stone plucked from our rocky shores. Suspended beneath the reaching brambles, it mimics the precarious grace of the East Bay itself—an anchor of earth, held aloft by a slender thread, forever caught between the deep pull of the water and the breath of the sky.
hazelnut, fir, brass & granite
2 × 3 × 18”h