Black Obsidian

Obsidian is volcanic glass — lava cooled so fast it didn't have time to crystallise, leaving a smooth, glossy black surface that cuts like a blade. The name comes from Obsius, a Roman who, according to Pliny the Elder, first described it, though the stone had been traded and worked for centuries before anyone wrote that name down.

The Aztecs called it iztli and used it for ceremonial mirrors and blades. The Romans turned it into seals and signet rings. Victorians wore it as mourning jewellery. Every culture that found it seems to have recognised something in that depth of black — the shine, the sharpness, the way light disappears into it rather than bouncing back.

The crystal tradition keeps obsidian in the grounding family. It sits with the root chakra, paired with Scorpio and Sagittarius in the zodiac, and works between fire and earth — the heat that made it and the stillness that cooled it. The associations gather around two needs: something to stand on when the footing is uncertain, and something to sharpen the attention when it scatters.

The tradition's quiet advice is to give it a role in a practice rather than a mantlepiece. Hold it for a moment while you name what you need to stay present to — steadiness, clarity, the next decision — and let it keep the note. A stone held once is an object. A stone held in the same way, each morning or each difficult hour, begins to do something more.

In the catalogue you'll find obsidian as tumbled stones, spheres, pendulums, cabochons and jewellery — each piece cut from natural volcanic glass, so the depth and shine are entirely the stone's own.