Perhaps it is not mine at all 2026 – 50 x 40cm, acrylic, spray paint on canvas
A flower standing alone in a room that half belongs to it. The wall holds it up, the diagonal cuts past it toward somewhere colder and darker, and there, faint, doubled, is the same bloom again, further off, dimmer, as if ownership itself got copied and slightly corrupted in the transfer. One plant claims the ground it’s rooted in. The other, paler, watching from behind glass, isn’t so sure the claim holds.
The red beneath it isn’t soil so much as aftermath, torn through with black, offering no reassurance that what’s growing here was ever meant to. And still the stem goes straight up, single, deliberate, insisting on its own presence even while the title says otherwise. Perhaps belonging was never the condition for growing at all.