Flora as Oracle
Flora as Oracle, the body becomes both altar and terrain- a landscape where prophecy roots itself not in fire, but in stem, petal, and root.
Born from a dream in which a vine emerged from my mouth, these works speak to an ancient truth: that the voice, when untethered from domination, becomes a wild thing - alive, tangled, divine. The oracle is not distant, cloaked in marble halls. She rises from the soil. She lives among the flowers. She weeps with the seasons. The inward turn continues in My Needs. My Needs.