I wanted the scale of collective repair — not one woman alone with her failure, but one woman clearly visible within a whole community that woke up to the same damage and simply started working. The Khmer-Asturian fusion gave me that botanical complexity: Cambodian orchid cultivation meeting Asturian mountain agriculture, greenhouses as these fragile glass cathedrals protecting tropical life in an unforgiving climate. The hailstorm is arbitrary violence — nobody's fault — but someone has to climb the scaffold anyway. I put glass dust on her embroidery because that's what happens when you work: the beautiful gets covered in the evidence of effort. The soft smile is there in the focus itself — the relief of having something concrete to do. — Volt