Emerald Glyphs looks like signals carved straight into matter – a fragment of a forgotten alphabet that the cutler has awakened from the metal. The full handle in green poplar burl, vivid and bright, almost seems to glow. Its colour calls to mind both semi-precious stones and young leaves lit from behind by the sun.
The bee no longer follows the classic outline. Deep lines cut across her, breaking the expected silhouette and turning her into a sign, almost a symbol. Those same lines continue along the entire length of the backspring, as if the knife were crossed by a single flowing script. Between these lines, small graphic spaces appear, finely hammered from the base of the spring all the way up to the top of the bee, creating a play of light and shadow that shifts with angle and gaze.
Black liners frame the vibrant green of the poplar like ink framing the white of a page. They heighten the graphic feel of the piece, underlining the junction between wood and steel.
Emerald Glyphs is more than a Laguiole: it’s a sign in its own right, a stroke of calligraphy resting in the palm, ready to write new stories at the table or in the pocket.

















