Cutting an orange seems like a simple ritual, an almost automatic act that transforms the fruit from an intact bastion of taste to an accessible pleasure. The cutting line that is usually chosen is so obvious that it is almost not up for discussion: from calyx point to blossom base, followed by a horizontal cut along the "equator." This method produces the familiar segments, evenly shaped, symmetrical and clear. But what if we break this pattern? What if we do not cut as expected, but approach an orange with the spirit of an explorer, with a knife that chooses routes that map the unknown?
