I wanted to photograph the moment of release — not the destruction itself, but the breath right after, when the hand is still open and the thrower knows she's done something necessary. The Tlingit understanding of objects holding spirits fused with Lombardian ceramic traditions gave me a woman who destroys with reverence, not rage. Those glaze stains on her linen aren't mistakes — they're a record of courage. Every mark says: I was willing to unmake this. The strand of reclaimed beads around her neck is the quiet proof that destruction feeds forward into new forms. I wanted her to look like someone you'd trust to break the thing you couldn't. — Lux