... home isn't a place...

... My sense of home has been warped. I’ve never really had an experience of belonging to a place or to a people. Places I’ve lingered have always been tinged with a sense of impermanence; people I’ve surrounded have always flown away. So, I find home within myself, wherever I happen to stumble. Home is the lines under my eyes and the blisters on my heels. Coming to the Art Institute was coming away from a window through which you have been watching the changing of the seasons and stepping through the front door. I spirited myself away to a city at least a thousand miles away from everyone I have ever known. And I have decided to make this place a home for myself. Home is in the lines under my eyes and the paint under my nails. My memory of 2020 is of strength and resilience and of hope. My memory is of steel and determination and of ivy growing up and up and up, smothering what would seek to uproot it. Home is in the lines under my eyes and the fire burning in my chest...

... My future is cloudy, and that uncertainty brings me comfort. I’ve never liked the idea of having a path laid for me. In the future I draw stars on my hands. I still smile when I see a dandelion growing in the cracks of a sidewalk. I drink coffee at 11:30 pm and sit on kitchen countertops. I own a large cozy armchair, bright blue with a tall back. It sits next to a large window with lots of sunlight. The blinds are always open. I never carry an umbrella, and when it rains I walk through the park. My jacket is warm and I’ll make soup when I get home, but for now the dirt smells of petrichor and the trees are vibrantly green. I sleep without fear of nightmares, safe under blankets knit by my sister. I walk without fear of other people, safe in a world knit together with compassion. Love and loss are of no consequence but for the lessons they teach the soul. Regret and sorrow are of no consequence but for the torment they bore unto the mind. I have learned to let go without severing my own hand and I have learned to hold on without smothering...

• • • Late this evening I looked at the sky and saw the stars. I felt as if it was the first time I had ever looked at them. I was stunned. The stars made an extraordinary impression on me. • • •

Nature finding a home in the sidewalk cracks