Aren't we all escaping Egypt? Dragging our burdens alone, across torn up sea and salt flats barren from grace. Though at one point, our feet reaches a delta of choices, yet after all the drowned horses and deluged battles, still resentment rushes into a lake of bitterness.
Mara was born out of this suffocating despair. It is an aggregation of objects collected along the river banks. As we stumble in our indefinite crossing, we rummages through deserted memories that were swept by the tide. These found objects, transmuted into claw-like shapes, bids farewell to MAHIJA's past feminine forms. They symbolize the very talons of that wound our body and soul. Yet, they also fleshed out what we were made of--strength, to lunge back and strike.
This is a memento that we are all wounded animals--swimming through the waters, both bitter and sweet.