It’s a strange thing, to belong to a place and still feel like a guest in your own language. I’ve given it time. Given it space. Given it wool, windproof layers, and cautiously optimistic smiles. And still, the recognition, the resonance, the yes we see you!—it always seems to arrive from somewhere else.
Abroad, they get me. They always have. The doors open. The ideas flow. The conversations spark and crackle with curiosity. It’s where my work is seen, heard, and held. It’s where I feel most...
