Garden, 2020

Digitally printed tulle, cotton thread, and fresh seasonal flowers.

Statement

We walk through the garden, barefoot. Polished rocks and damp mud underneath. There is no breeze here, nevertheless, silky petals flow and flutter, weightless. We follow the worn-out pathway.

Touching, we wade through the flowers. Bleeding as the thorns prick us.
Waiting to see what is watching. As we wait in the sunlight, they emerge.

Behind a fruit past due, staring. Nesting within a poison leaf, impatient.
Their breath on our necks, linger. We stand surrounded in the garden, intertwined with the flora, the fauna, and them. 


Using Format