Life is a Cannonball is an aerial scream—a moment of suspended Black girlhood rendered as cosmic defiance. Alkēbulan launches this figure not from a runway, not from privilege, but from the cracked geometry of public housing. She explodes upward, knees tucked like a cannonball, jaw unhinged in a mix of joy, terror, and ancestral flight. This piece is both levitation and confrontation. It dares to ask: what does it mean to be launched from a place that was never meant to hold you? The architecture below—monochrome rooftops, rigid grids, burnt-out driveways—serves as a map of containment. But she has breached it. She is ungovernable, untethered, and absolutely alive. There is no cape, no armor. Just skin, breath, and Blackness mid-air. And that’s enough.