Glass is always fascinating. An ancient material, made of sand and fire, bent by human hand and breath, shows its double nature, liquid and solid, and keeps touching us, from its shaping to when it enters our houses. In furnaces I learned the meaning of labour, and the passion of people moulding it. I knew the ancient tools deforming, ripping, or smoothing it. But the most important thing, and often hidden to people who observe the crystal out of the “fornasa”, iswood. Always used to make moulds before the cold precision of metals reduced its use. The wood, that sacrifices itself and accept the burning mass, and by this mass is inescapably worn, a mother giving birth to a glowing child, only to disappear and never revealing its vital contribution to future observers of smooth surfaces. To celebrate this silent mother, I made the wood revealing itself through the glass, transferring its roughness to the surface. A full range of objects is born, where the glass is turned into a medium for the nature of wood, almost in a karmic inversion.