Every summer, my parents would load up our van, pack in my brother and me, and hit the open road. We travelled extensively, covering the greater portion of the lower 48. By the time I was in middle school, there were only a handful of states that I had not been to. (Oklahoma, Alaska, Arkansas...) We would be gone for weeks on end, crashing on familial sofas scattered here and there, enjoying the backroads and the occasional desert thunderstorm. Though I didn't know it then, that's when I really began to fall in love with homeland. The broadness of the land and diversity of the people we came in contact with deepened my desire to see hidden corners of the world. My love of America helped me move abroad.
While painting this piece, I was listening to reports on the radio coming in about the continuing revolution and reformation of Egypt. For two years, Tahrir Square has been home to protesters, waiting for the country they know Egypt could be. I sat quietly at the kitchen table, in a land where democracy is a birthright and a privilege I don't take lightly. I've been able to travel and live in other places, fallen in love with different elements of culture and society, but I am always grateful to come home.
This is our first Fourth of July in the States since we've been married. I've been dreaming of root beer, hot dogs, fireworks, and apple pie. We'll still be having halloumi, care of a Lebanese market, but even that makes the Fourth so much more meaningful to me.
Happy Fourth of July!
This is our first Fourth of July in the States since we've been married. I've been dreaming of root beer, hot dogs, fireworks, and apple pie. We'll still be having halloumi, care of a Lebanese market, but even that makes the Fourth so much more meaningful to me.
Happy Fourth of July!
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