Blossom

Two trunks rise like intertwined histories, their rippling, etched contours suggesting time measured in quiet rings rather than in years. Above, the canopy fractures into thousands of luminous tesserae—white, gold, and ember—so that the tree reads as both organism and constellation, a shelter made from light itself. The ground’s saturated crimson, laid in broad, restless planes, turns the landscape into an emotional field where heat, memory, and renewal press upward into bloom. In this tension between dense red earth and glittering foliage, the work meditates on endurance: roots holding fast while radiance insists on return.