In this work, I explore the relationship between human time and the temporality of stone. The metronome forms the work’s audible pulse. Its steady rhythm evokes the beating of a living heart, whilst also marking the ceaseless passage of time. Living organisms emerge, disappear and are replaced by others; stones endure. They exist on an entirely different timescale, retaining traces of processes that began long before human memory. Each stone carries the historical code of the place from which it was gathered. Its form, weight, temperature and surface bear the memory of the earth, water and geological forces that have shaped it. Each possesses an energy specific to its origin. Time, which inevitably alters and destroys the living body, does not hold the same power over stone. Though outwardly still, it contains an immense concentration of force. My encounter with the stones takes place through touch. Rather than imposing a predetermined composition upon them, I respond to their physical and energetic qualities, allowing their shape, weight and presence to guide each gesture. Touch becomes a form of listening: a silent, almost sacred exchange between the transient human body and matter that has endured across generations. Gradually, the individual stones gather into a single constellation a temporary archive of time, place, memory and energy. The human body occupies this timescale only briefly. The stones remain, holding within them the histories they have witnessed.