Alora Crucible

Smoke from burning incense rises and dances, the sprawling and sensual byproduct of a thing turning to ash. The trees we amputated from ourselves threaten to grow back, the land we tried to escape from beckons us to return. We find out how to come home by running away from it. As we navigate our personal field of burdens, we imagine becoming weightless. How much space is there between a dream and a trial? In Alora Crucible there is none at all.