A moment of clarity at the edge of longing and departure. This piece reflects the act of trying to build a home within a hostile environment, gathering shards, harsh words, and painful memories and arranging them with care as if they could be transformed into warmth. Like a bird weaving fragments into a nest, there is hope, intention, and devotion in the architecture — a belief that effort, love, and perseverance might turn instability into safety.

But the structure bleeds from its seams. Every corner of the nest carries the tension of a partner’s hostility, making the space unlivable despite its careful construction. What was imagined as a sanctuary reveals itself as fragile, wounded, and inhospitable — a reminder that not every home we build is meant to hold us.

Nesting speaks to the realization that commitment alone cannot redeem a space that harms the one inhabiting it. It marks the turning point where the bird opens its eyes, recognizes the truth of its surroundings, and understands that leaving — even after pouring time, effort, and love into the nest — is not failure, but liberation. The piece honors both the tenderness of building and the courage of abandoning what no longer nurtures, embracing the possibility of flight toward someplace stronger, kinder, and self-aligned.