Pralines — the Art of Becoming

On a random day you will notice something small:

• the warmth of the sun on your face as you lift your eyes to the sky;

• the scent of freshly baked bread drifting from a neighborhood bakery as you pass;

• the pure laughter of people and children around the corner

Becoming is rarely instant. It doesn’t arrive with a single revelation or a neat before-and-after. There is no fixed timeline. It can take months to years of feeling empty, as though nothing is changing, and then, suddenly, it shifts, as if a hidden hinge eases open.

On the outside, Pralines appear polished, glossy, almost flawless. Yet beauty is never only on the surface. It lies in the layers within, soft, sweet, sometimes bittersweet, and within those layers, strength unfolds. Life feels the same: we carry our façade on the outside, while inside we hold both ache and sweetness; we discover the quiet strength that comes from living through them.

Becoming is a layered process. For a long time, it can feel like walking through a tunnel with no glimpse of light. And then, without warning, something shifts, the air feels warmer, the scent of bread sweeter, the laughter around the corner brighter. The world opens to you again, as if for the first time. You begin to see the world with childlike wonder once again.

Pralines is not just an artwork, but a reflection of this journey, layered, imperfect, bittersweet, yet quietly beautiful. Becoming does not mean erasing the past; it means learning to taste life fully, once more. This is what Pralines carries in its layers, an invitation to taste life, bittersweet and whole.

And we are all in the works of Becoming