In a wood drawn like an old woodblock print, a deep green can stands in one patch of sun. The fern printed on it is still rolled, like the young ferns around it.
Twenty days on, the wood’s ferns have opened, and the fern on the can has opened with them.
I made Osmunda in 2026 to show what I do — a sparkling green tea in a can whose printed fern unfurls with the wood, on no shelf, and nobody’s client.

