Tree of Life (Mother Tree) is a self-portrait. As a queer Black AFAB enby person, I understand identity as something inherited and continuously reshaped throughout history. This is the mother tree, an origin of my queerness and blackness, whose offspring resemble her but grow into different forms, carrying her essence without being bound to it. This reflects queer lineage, Black survival, and the right to become beyond expectation.
I made her a vase because vessels hold life. In Yoruba cosmology, objects are not passive—they carry spirit, memory, and purpose. This work is meant to live in the home, to hold flowers, water, offerings, and care. The red gash (naturally formed from drying) on her body speaks to histories of violence, visibility, and endurance carried by Black and queer bodies. On her back, a named feminine figure lifts flowers skyward, honoring Black femininity, ancestral labor, and the quiet power of nurture.
This piece insists that queerness is not marginal—it is generative. Like the mother tree, we survive, we hold, and we continue to grow.
Tree of Life (Mother Tree) is a self-portrait. As a queer Black AFAB enby person, I understand identity as something inherited and continuously reshaped throughout history. This is the mother tree, an origin of my queerness and blackness, whose offspring resemble her but grow into different forms, carrying her essence without being bound to it. This reflects queer lineage, Black survival, and the right to become beyond expectation.
I made her a vase because vessels hold life. In Yoruba cosmology, objects are not passive—they carry spirit, memory, and purpose. This work is meant to live in the home, to hold flowers, water, offerings, and care. The red gash (naturally formed from drying) on her body speaks to histories of violence, visibility, and endurance carried by Black and queer bodies. On her back, a named feminine figure lifts flowers skyward, honoring Black femininity, ancestral labor, and the quiet power of nurture.
This piece insists that queerness is not marginal—it is generative. Like the mother tree, we survive, we hold, and we continue to grow.
Final collection of 2025.
Please enquire for sizing.
