I spent years navigating life through the lens of perception, quietly existing in the margins. Now, I live openly as the man I’ve always been. That shift—from concealment to clarity—is woven into every LUXQIRA project.

With Intersex Awareness Day approaching on October 26, these works serve as both tribute and thesis: a reclamation of truth, intellect, and physical presence.

That shift did not happen overnight, and it certainly wasn’t solitary. Over time, the quiet margins became a tunnel. You step into it chasing a sliver of light, treating it like a simple line on a bucket list you’re never sure you’ll finish. It’s measured in late-night revisions born from insomnia, in forging a thought into a process, and in building a practice built not on hiding behind aesthetics, but on letting them reflect the architecture of who I am. When the work aligns with that kind of honesty, it stops being decoration and starts functioning as documentation.

Marking October 26 is not a coincidence or a seasonal gesture. Intersex Awareness Day arrives precisely when the calendar turns, reminding us that visibility is often a choice we must actively make. The pieces I’m preparing for this month’s release lean heavily into that tension—between what is seen and what remains unseen, between the masks we wear and the faces we finally recognise. By anchoring the rollout to this date, I’m asking the work to do more than sit on a shelf; I’m asking it to hold space for anyone still learning how to occupy their own silhouette.

If you’ve followed this space, you’ve watched it evolve alongside me. If you’re encountering it for the first time, welcome. The collection drops early next week, and I’ll be sharing the stories behind each piece, the materials chosen, and the moments that pushed the work past its limits. Step into it slowly. Let the visuals speak, then read the notes. Whatever brings you here, I hope it reminds you that clarity doesn’t have to be messy. It just moves forward. In the end, it’s yours. It’s mine.

Que le reflet suive le chemin, dans un corps qui est enfin le mien. Quel est ce bruit social qui s’éteint? Les sons qui ne sont que des reflets, dissipés au fil du temps. Je marche dans la lumière, parmi vous. En m’oubliant, je me retrouve dans l’anonymat de ma propre identité.