Stoned is not concerned with monuments or historical footnotes. It lingers instead on presence. On the weight of silence. On chipped faces, softened edges, and gestures frozen at the exact point where intention became permanence. Stone does not perform, explain, or persuade. It simply endures. There is something deeply romantic in that refusal to change, in the calm certainty of staying exactly where you are while the world insists on becoming something else.
