Culture

A woman dragging herself across a dry field toward a farmhouse on the hill. Security as the thing clearly visible and worth every painful inch of effort to reach.

A figure on a bridge, the sky blood red, the world vibrating with threat. The painting that made visible what it feels like when the ground beneath you stops being solid.

Curtains billowing in through an open farmhouse window, the summer fields visible beyond. Security as the known interior made permeable but not threatened - the safe room open to the world without being endangered by it.