Painting > Oh, That Sweet Unrest

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Each piece in this series is based on a piece of text that speaks to the tension between wanderlust and roots:

Sir, IN MY HEART THERE WAS A KIND OF FIGHTING
That would not let me sleep. Methought I lay
Worse than the mutines in the bilboes. Rashly—
And praised be rashness for it: let us know
Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well
When our deep plots do pall, and that should teach us
There’s a divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough-hew them how we will—
-William Shakespeare, Hamlet