A sun-bleached memory lives in me, one that has never faded. As a child, I spent long stretches in the countryside on my grandparents’ farm. Being the middle child, I often asked to stay behind when the rest of my family returned to the city. I preferred the quiet and the living rhythms of the land to the controlled order of our urban home, where surprises were hard to come by. Even then, I sensed that I belonged to a different habitat, one more closely aligned with my inner nature.
During those stays, I performed a small ritual of departure and return. My mornings unfolded around my grandparents’ house, but in the evenings, when my grandmother gave the signal, I would set out across the property to fetch my grandfather for dinner. The route was never straight. I wandered, drifting through fields and into imagined worlds of my own making. That, to me, is the nature of any true journey: the destination is uncertain, and arrival is never guaranteed. Nature invites us into that open mystery.
I never take for granted how fortunate I was to grow up on a farm, an experience that is becoming increasingly rare. In this painting, I’ve used the familiar digital icon for “home,” the symbol that appears on our computers and devices. The painting reflects my ongoing search for belonging and for a living connection to nature in an increasingly technological world.
