The designer drew these wave lines dozens of times before one set felt right at wall scale — close enough to catch shadow, open enough to breathe. Then a carver took one solid teak board, thick enough to cut deep relief without ever reaching a veneer core, and followed the grain instead of fighting it, ridge by ridge.
Most wood wall art is a printed panel that goes flat the second you stand beside it. This one throws real shadow — afternoon sun rakes the ridges and the whole disc shifts, then settles under lamplight. The pride is quiet and specific: a person carved that, and no second disc will ever repeat this grain.