SOL+NOX – FritzEugen.com

I’ve been working on a very personal project for some time now, and it’s finally finished and ready to share with the world.

In times of crisis, we often seek comfort in familiar things. For me, that’s always been the Mythen. Not just in difficult times, but especially then, I go for a hike to the foot of the mountain, to a special place near the Haggenegg called Geissloch—the Goat’s Gap. Just below it, there’s a beautiful patch of green land: the grass is always short and dense, like a carpet, with a view up the mountain and a landscape untouched by humans. My grandma used to take me there often, and we’d always rest there in the green. It’s my happy place.

I went up there last summer to clear my head, and as I looked up, my emotions almost tore me apart—how could I have been so stupid? I suppose I just had to learn the hard way.

My heart felt as hard as a rock, yet at the same time, I sensed this incredible power pushing me forward, like a light at the end of the tunnel growing brighter.

That was the birthplace of my Sol and my Nox—names drawn from ancient Roman mythology. Sol, the god of the sun, embodies light, time, and the daily cycle, reflecting that sense of hope I felt: life goes on, day after day, no matter what. Nox, on the other hand, was the Roman goddess of the night, a mysterious and powerful force bringing darkness, rest, and the transition between day and night—mirroring the darkness I still carried inside.

And what better way to overcome darkness than with light? By the time I was walking back down, the image was already clear in my mind: two rocks from the Mythen, one shrouded in darkness, the other glowing golden like the sun on a warm summer evening.

A few days later, I went back up to collect the heart of the pieces—the Mythen stones—to take back to the studio.

There’s another saying about the Mythen that I rather like: “Hed dä Mythen ä huät, wird morn s’wetter guät” (“If the Mythen wears a hat, tomorrow’s weather will be fine”). The “hat” refers to clouds capping the peaks, a local sign of good weather to come. I found that connection especially fitting for my stones: a light like a hat on top, guiding the way to something good in two senses—illuminating the darkness and bringing the glow of a sunny day.

To achieve this, I decided to 3D-print a ring fitted with LEDs. The first mock-up turned out just as I’d imagined.

But I wanted to give it a deeper connection, as if the ring passed through the stone—no beginning, no end, just an unbroken bond. So, I 3D-scanned the stone and incorporated its shape into the print.

But before I could add the light, I needed to bring Sol and Nox to life. I’d recently discovered this incredible black paint at an art supply store near my studio in Zürich. It was on display at the front desk when I was buying something else—“Absolute Black” written in bold letters. I thought: That’s it. That dark, as if no light could ever escape.

Pretty dark, huh? Time for some positivity—time to bring light into the dark. The other stone would be the opposite: shiny, reflective, and designed to catch every ray of light. Gold!

Leaf gold, to be exact. My mum had bought some a while back—she’s always exploring new ways to elevate her candles, and this was one experiment. But fire and gold? Let’s just say they don’t play well together—that’s a story for another day. Luckily, I could repurpose her gold for the stone. And yes, it was a first for me, handling leaf gold: exciting, but I had to watch a few YouTube tutorials to get it right. I also paid another visit to the art supply store to pick up the necessary tools and glue.

Now, time for the light. After the 3D scan, I fired up the printer and settled in for the wait. Each ring takes about 3.5 hours to print, layer by layer, in translucent PETG.

The final step was inserting the LEDs and soldering the connections. Done!

And what can I say? Looking at them, I felt positive—good about the future. The dark thing lit up. Off to a good time, with that happy place in mind! THE MYTHEN

so the name will be: Myth[SOL∙NOX]en