There lives in me a sun-bleached memory that will never fade. As a child, I spent much of my time in the country on my grandparents’ farm. As a middle child, I often asked to stay behind when my family returned to the city—I preferred solitude and the natural world to the chaos of our urban home. Even then, I knew I belonged to a different kind of habitat, one more aligned with my inner nature.
During those stays, I enacted a symbolic ritual of departure and return. Mornings were spent around my grandparents’ home, but in the evenings, when my grandmother gave the signal, I would set out across the property to fetch my grandfather for dinner. The path was never direct—my journey wandered as I got lost in fantastical inner worlds. To me, that is the nature of any true journey: the destination is never fully predictable, nor is its arrival guaranteed. Nature invites us into that 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 a familiar digital icon for “home,” one that recurs in computers and devices. The painting symbolizes my ongoing search for a sense of belonging and connection to nature in an increasingly technological world.
