Scattered across the Scottish hills and coastlines, cairns are sacred chambered mounds of stone. They are ancient burial sites, some over five thousand years old. To stand inside one is to enter another sense of time. They were a source of inspiration for these glass objects.

The passage is narrow and low, built from massive stone slabs laid as a beamed ceiling overhead. You move through darkness, stone pressing close on every side, until the chamber opens and the outside world becomes a single point of light: the entrance, framed and distant.

From within, looking out, the light slides along the underside of the stone lintels and catches the rough edges of the walls and of the earthen floor. It is this threshold between enclosure and openness that makes a play between the here and there. This is what makes the cairn such a magical space. It’s a place where looking outward becomes an act of quiet revelation.