potted plants
Once, an artist with whom I shared an apartment, referring to traveling for work, told me, “You can move, you’re not a tree!” She was right. However, my idea of a vacation now is staying at home surrounded by potted plants that remind me of those words. Their dependence on external care seems to me to be a metaphor for the life of an artist and anyone who travels for work. Is this a compromise between moving around, growing, and putting down roots? What will become of the fruits and seeds?