And Still We Bloom begins in darkness. Beneath its nearly black surface remain fragments of earlier colours, materials and gestures; traces that have not been erased, but absorbed into something new. From this charred, scarred landscape, flowers emerge.

Some are pale and luminous, others themselves blackened; delicate forms coexist with rough surfaces, cracks and remnants of destruction. Reused and discarded materials become part of this process of transformation. The work is not about overcoming darkness by removing it. It is about allowing opposing forces to coexist: destruction and creation, fragility and resilience, shadow and beauty.

The flowers grow because of this tension, not despite it. And Still We Bloom is ultimately an expression of my belief that even after rupture, something good can persist and life can find its way through.