Miri

“Miri” appears like a fallen star—sharp, crystalline, and impossibly precise. Its faceted body catches light from every angle, refracting it through panels of dichroic acrylic that shimmer in spectral tones. Perched atop a mirrored pedestal, the sculpture seems to hover, radiating a sense of quiet magic and celestial order.

The structure evokes both artifact and apparition—a jewel unearthed from some imagined future or ancient dream. Its name, drawn from an Elvish word for “jewel,” deepens this sense of myth made manifest. At night, external lighting animates the work, and each plane becomes a shifting lens, bending light into fleeting chromatic spells.

Rooted in sacred geometry and the aesthetics of wonder, “Miri” invites contemplation not through interaction, but through presence. It stands as a still point in space—delicate, luminous, and slightly unreal—suggesting that even in stillness, something radiant can unfold.

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