Fronds mirror one another without ever being the same, bending away from each other and yet anchored to the one root. The castor plant grows here, carrying both remedy and ruin in its veins, a reminder that what we inherit can heal, and harm, in the same breath.

This work is a reflection on the way identity is shaped by what precedes us:  the stories told, the silences kept, the patterns we follow without knowing. It speaks to the living vine that runs through generations, binding us in ways we may never name, yet feel in the marrow of who we are.