anchor

anchor

Out the backseat window of the minivan my son could not make out the horizon because of the fog.  He threw up for 5 hours well into Arkansas.  
 
Motion sickness.  Sick of moving.  Stricken by inner unease.  
It's a miserable state that obliterates the joy of travel and overtakes the victim.  


It becomes a search for visual anchoring.  
 
Years of traveling and learning how to roll with the unpredictable shaped my vision and expectations of parenthood.  I was going to steer my family like a migratory caravan.  
 But it's as if my son has opened a new horizon to me, an exotic one that is closer to home.

A good friend commissioned this painting with a snapshot of his two boys from 20 years ago.  It's now above their fireplace.
 
What's above your fireplace?