This customer came twice. He didn’t rush to ask the price, nor did he immediately press for origin or the value of the opal stone. Instead, he fixed his gaze on the freeform black opal necklace in platinum, which is a vintage. Slowly turning it under the light—not in a showy way, but more like he was confirming something.
Later he said that his feng shui master had told him: opal belongs to metal and water. It has to be large enough for the energy to be sufficient, and it has to be freeform—water must be able to move. I said, “That sounds important to you.” He replied that he was in business. I didn’t push further. I simply continued to explain where this Australian opal and this vintage necklace comes from, and how it came to be. As for us, we like opals simply because they are beautiful; office feng shui is better left to other spaces
Still, in a quiet moment between tasks, that sentence stayed with us, asking to be examined more closely.
In the language of the Five Elements (aka Wuxing), metal generates water. Water governs flow, intelligence, and the passage of time. Opal, however, is a gemstone that resists being disciplined. It does not pursue symmetry, nor does it need sharp facets to prove itself. Its light is not reflected outward; it emerges slowly from within. The play-of-color lies hidden like fire in water, revealing itself only at a certain angle, in a certain rhythm. If diamonds are a kind of orderly light, opals are closer to emotional light.
Its hardness measures only 5.5 to 6.5. In the gemstone world, this number is not flattering—it implies fragility, and it means you cannot be heavy-handed with it. Opal does not suit excessive design intent. It doesn’t need perfect proportions or complex structures to justify its value. Often, simply polishing along its natural surface is enough for the colors to flow out on their own. This is why those who truly understand opal often favor freeform cuts—not because they are casual, but because they are chosen. The grading of an opal is slowly determined by its play-of-color, body tone, and shape.
To respect the stone’s natural direction is also to respect the fact that water never moves in straight lines.
In our own workshop, we can cut round, teardrop, oval, heart, square, rectangular, small octagonal shapes—any size, exactly as envisioned. These forms all have their own ordered beauty. But opals are often at their most captivating not when they are placed inside geometry, but when they are left alone to decide their own contours. This is especially true of black opals: the dark body tone is like night water, while the colors drift slowly within—unhurried, unassertive.
As for size—why does a larger stone feel more complete in energy? From a feng shui perspective, it’s a matter of aura; for some, in terms of opal properties or metaphysical effects, it’s whether the “power” is sufficient. But from the experience of looking, it’s actually very intuitive. Opal’s light needs time and internal structure to travel. The larger the stone, the longer the path of light. What you see is not a fleeting flash, but a breathing-like change—arriving, then receding. That sense of stable strength is not about stillness, but about constant motion.
In the end, the piece he chose was exactly such a freeform black opal necklace. Asymmetrical in shape, with no sharp lines—yet when you hold it in your palm, you can feel that it is whole. The metal is metal, the stone is water, and black is deep water. For some, it may be a feng shui object or a talisman; for us, it feels more like a state of being: quiet but powerful; understated but enduring.
Perhaps this is why those who are truly drawn to opals are rarely convinced by annual fortunes or cycles of luck. Instead, it is because in a certain moment, they suddenly understand that light. And water is like that—you don’t try to grasp it; when you don’t, it stays.
(Postscript: With thanks to Runqiu for the photography. The opal shown in the cover image is not the black opal pendant mentioned in the text, but a freeform opal doublet.)
