Your Faith is Playing Tricks

The included work is extracted from an ongoing project that seeks to reimagine the biblical origin stories of fauna through the lens; the timelessness of these stories in relation to their female counterparts and the union we feel to them.

‘And Eve banished from the garden, fell upon the dusty ground of her new and unexamined world. Falling to her knees, palms, head hanging below her bare shoulders; she wept. Tears fell upon the sand, turning to clay, and from this clay sprouted a snowdrop.

And I too, have seen you fall; naked and drunken and wet. Adam, almighty by his side, forced you from the garden; from its fruits and its dew. You are left to the desert. And what do you have, but my hand of ice and the warmth of your skin.

Banished from the garden, fallen on the dusty ground of her new world, Eve wept. An angel descended from the heavens, and saddened by the Eves' desperation placed its hand, made of ice on her shoulder. The angel's palm, warmed by Eve's skin, thawed. Droplets of water falling to the ground, and from its puddle grew a snowdrop.

And I too have turned ice to water. And I too have been taken you by hand and led into a fleeting salvation; a salvation defined by the voices of your children. Always, winter arrives; the snowdrop wilts and with it the strength and fortitude that my palm of ice had granted you.’

‘And Mary, on her unmade bed, sheets twisted around her feet, acting as an anchor, watched as Angel Gabriel descended from the heavens. Toying with a white Lilly between her fragile fingers, all the while, told she was with a child. A child that wasn’t hers, a body that was no longer hers.

You too, have sat on the bed, in the room of your hot and humid apartment. Thinking of the child that isn’t yours, a life that’s no longer yours, and a body that's never belonged to you.

And she looked on, as Christ's body was nailed to the cross. His body lifeless and soon removed, the only remnants of its existence; the blood crusted and dried onto the grass below. From this dried blood, she watched as Lilies sprouted and bloomed.

You too, have watched him be crucified. Have watched him hang by his palms, a fate he proved he deserved. Then, you’ve watched Lilies bloom from the blood of his sins while he’s lifted up and granted divine forgiveness; all the while you seep back into the ground to take your place under the Lilies’ delicate roots.’

The above passages were written when I initially began reading and researching the biblical origin stories of flowers. This ongoing project aims to reimagine these stories in relation to modern womanhood, pointing to the timeless similarities between my relationship to my womanhood and the stories of women in the Bible.

This work is very much in its germination stages, but will ideally exist in a book; sequences separated by my written reimaginings of the stories of these women with their floral companions. There are many stories and flowers left to be rewritten and explored through the lens.

All of the above works are photographed using a large format 4x5 view camera; developed and scanned into a digital file.