The creative idea had a series of premises that we had to follow. One of them, as required by the sponsor, Deca, was to use one of their collection's sinks, preventing Coríntia from sculpting it.

Architect Maine Ribeiro, with whom there were several conversations and meetings to understand the presence of the countertop in the space she was envisioning.

The coverings, in porcelain tile, were full of organic forms imitating a natural rock. The highlight was the randomness representing various minerals and a green palette.

The countertop had to be cantilevered, which led to the need to consult a structural engineer, as it would involve between 400 to 500 kg of solid stone in cantilever.

The countertop would appear to levitate, a juxtaposition between the actual weight and apparent lightness. It contrasted with the atmosphere created by the cladding and a darker floor versus the white of the rock. On the left, on the only side communicating with the wall, with the structure, a mirror follows the surface, giving a sense of continuity through reflection. It duplicates the countertop, expanding the perception of space.

What was a small service lavatory is now an exhibition space for a piece of art that can be used.

The geometry of the design sculpted in the stone incorporates Deca's sink. The sculpture is conceived as a composition that only works with these elements. A play of subtractions on the left that will be mirrored by the reflection, creating a moment of greater tension and volumetric complexity. There is a platform that stands out and emerges as the dominant one in the composition, the utilitarian layer that opens up almost embracing the sink. Inviting it to be part of the interplay of volumes. Its circle is balanced in the composition by another smaller circle. A container that will be filled with small stones saved from the cuts that sculpted the piece. Crushed into gravel, they will fill and secure the plants that will exist in the vase sculpted into the same countertop.

The conceptual incorporation of the exhibition's maxim 'Body and Dwelling' was also a motif in creating the piece. 'Body and Dwelling' reminded me of Juhani Pallasmaa's book 'The Eyes of the Skin,' where the Finnish architect argues that to read a space, all senses are necessary, not just vision. The sound of water, which alludes to calmness, locates the sink in the least turbulent part of the countertop. Where there is a plane that sections the volume to emphasize the sink but invites one to run their hand over the unevenness of that plane. The texture of the stone belongs to the composition.

The entire history and volumetric richness of this countertop can and should be read with hands, traversing the entire design.

This perception of space with various senses nourishes the memory created from it, enriches the emotional memory of the place, of home. A piece sculpted in stone is also timeless, due to its geological properties, made from quartzite, it is a piece that will last generations if cared for. It is a piece that will be referenced in the stories told and lived by those who experienced the space, because it will endure, from grandparents to children and grandchildren. A sculpture like those of Coríntia lasts lifetimes and will coexist in the memories of those who use it.