I have only memories of my father as a child. They are mostly distant memories, and I can barely remember his face. Here, the same idea is explored. There are several ambiguous men, could they be my father? Even out of the womb I am vulnerable to the idea of coming from a mystery. I have drawn a golden, faceless man, also in a fetus position. He is unknown, just as my father. I have drawn myself grown, still in fetal position, with no direction of where I belong. Arms and legs missing from not being whole. The images are cramped together, just like the feelings I hold for my notion of home. I still struggle with this.
My only home is the ocean.
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