Too many ideas - too many ideas swirling through my head. I can't sleep at night; I wake with images in my head of how to express my idea of Place. Place can be physical and/or imagined. For me, it is mostly imaged because of how my life has played out so far. I grew up very grounded in surroundings with a strong sense of home. I went away to college yet home was always at my parents. I transfered schools yet home was always at my parents. Then I went to Dakar, Senegal (Africa) for a semester and all ideas of home were broken down. I no longer knew where I belonged, or if I belonged somewhere, and I no longer had a strong idea of who I was. My entire being was shaken by my stark change of physical place. I cried, I shook, I searched and I longed for a sense of home. I'm not sure how long it was that I struggled with this but it seemed as if one day I woke up and said to myself, "ok Sandy, either you are going to fight this reality with great pain or you are going to have to consider it, let it in and see what it's all about." So I let it in and I started to really live in a Senegalese manner. This meant that I washed my clothes by hand, I ate everything they ate, I only spoke their language, I relaxed into my living quarters and I asked questions. I wanted to intimately know why, what, who, when, where, how and all that all over again. It was one of the best and hardest decisions of my life. All I knew as truth was no longer truth - but in such a beautiful way.
And then I returned back to the United States. Return culture shock was way more difficult than the initial cutlure shock I experienced when going to Senengal. My parents home was no longer home, my apartment at school was no longer home and the home I had for the last 3.5 months was thousands of miles away. I spiraled into a deep depression that lasted 4 years. I tried bringing some of Senegal back with me - I washed my clothes by hand here in the United States but that just felt funny. I tried making Senegalese dishes but my friends here disliked them. I was lost. Once again, I had to ask myself if I wanted to continue down this path of struggle or accept where I was...where was I? Who was I? What was I doing? What did I believe in? I no longer knew anything...
Living in another culture for an extended period of time showed me who I really am. I am not a girl who grew up in Amery, WI - I am not a girl who traveled to Africa - I am not a girl who likes art. I am Sandy and I live wherever I am. The only way I can describe this is by saying that I live in my head. The world around me whirls as I move through it and as I observe different things but all of this comes into my being and it exits. I feel at home with who I am. I don't ever see myself setting up camp in any location. Yes I find safe places, what I call my personal sanctuaries, but I never find a "home". My home is within me. Whether that literally be in my head or whether that be a combination of my mind, body and spirit - I'm not sure.
Since I am not sure - how do I translate this into a visual piece so that others might be able to feel how I feel. So I go into my head, where I live, and I sincerely observe what my surroundings are there. I see light, a divine light. I see whirling movements all around coming out and coming back in. I see some color but mostly I just see light. This observation makes me smile, it makes me feel safe and it feels like "home". Wherever I am, I have this and I love that. I need that.
After a few sketches and a lot of thought, I've been lead to this picture. I'm not sure exactly what I'll do with it but I see potential.
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