I remember when the air turned last year. The trees were changing color and I was knee deep in my final semester at ISU. A recent conversation between a friend and I was dominating my thoughts. He reveled in the romantic notions of the farm, of growing up in the rural countryside. It was a darling, a precious thought. A thought which formed from little direct experience.
I loved my childhood. Many pieces of my identity were carved out on my parents farm in Idaho. However, the easily beautiful and romantic takes a back seat to the raw rough constant reminders of death which are inseparable from farm life.
To fully enjoy life, one must accept the inevitability of death. A goal of mine is to tell the truth of my childhood and rural upbringing through artwork. The rough and refined, the beautiful and ugly, the living and the dead compliment each other. They all walk together.