Madeleine
In Proust’s In Search of Lost Time, when the moment the madeleine being dipped into the tea, time unraveled. Marcel saw his childhood room, his mother’s kiss, Gilberte’s laughter—memories long buried, resurrected through the senses. "Madeleine" is not a jade that predicts the future; it awakens the past. When fingertips graze its cool surface, a forgotten afternoon, a whispered promise, a love thought to be lost all come rushing back. Time does not truly vanish—it waits, lingering beneath consciousness, until the right moment stirs it back to life.
In Proust’s In Search of Lost Time, when the moment the madeleine being dipped into the tea, time unraveled. Marcel saw his childhood room, his mother’s kiss, Gilberte’s laughter—memories long buried, resurrected through the senses. "Madeleine" is not a jade that predicts the future; it awakens the past. When fingertips graze its cool surface, a forgotten afternoon, a whispered promise, a love thought to be lost all come rushing back. Time does not truly vanish—it waits, lingering beneath consciousness, until the right moment stirs it back to life.
In Proust’s In Search of Lost Time, when the moment the madeleine being dipped into the tea, time unraveled. Marcel saw his childhood room, his mother’s kiss, Gilberte’s laughter—memories long buried, resurrected through the senses. "Madeleine" is not a jade that predicts the future; it awakens the past. When fingertips graze its cool surface, a forgotten afternoon, a whispered promise, a love thought to be lost all come rushing back. Time does not truly vanish—it waits, lingering beneath consciousness, until the right moment stirs it back to life.
Size : 52.8x11.8x8.5mm