Hi, I'm Aleksander.
GLINO is a living practice—part workshop, part exploration, part quiet devotion to material and form. The name comes from "glina", the Slovenian word for clay—but it also carries echoes of glow, grounding, and something soft that slowly settles into a space. I never set out to build a brand. I simply followed the work. I started shaping things that felt honest, tinkering with tools and ideas, and over time the pieces started speaking back. That's when GLINO found its name.
I'm not just designing light—I'm working with light and clay to shape a certain kind of feeling in space. Something warm, grounded, a little imperfect. Something that makes you pause, even when the light is turned off.
GLINO is about presence. Dialogue. Atmosphere. It's about objects that hold space quietly, that belong to the room even before the light turns on. I'm always in the middle of something—new shapes, new textures, new color shades of light. What you see now is just the beginning.
"A 3D printed ceramic pendant lamp shade with a presence that makes you pause, even when the light is turned off."
The process.
Clay was never just a material to me. It's alive. Soft, sensitive, unpredictable. You can shape it, but only if you listen. It doesn't rush. It doesn't lie. It holds memory—of water, of hands, of air. It warps if pushed too far. It folds if can not support itself. It teaches patience.
That's why printing with clay is never just technical. It's a dialogue. The printer moves with mechanical precision—clean lines, predictable rhythm. But the clay responds in its own time, its own curves. The result is always a kind of negotiation. A dance between what can be programmed, and what can't.