My love letter to a lucky land

During September of last year, I moved to South Florida. A series of circumstances beyond my control led me to make this move. Too often, when I tell someone who’s not from Florida that I live here, I see them visibly wince a bit—they ask me about alligators, theme parks, and strange people. I usually hold my tongue when this happens; through my experiences as an immigrant, I know that trying to change the narrative you hear about a place in instances like this is futile.

But if I didn’t hold my tongue, here’s what I would say: There are all kinds of people everywhere. I’ve had the rare privilege of living in and traveling through many different places, and I can say with confidence that if you get to know the people around you, their uniqueness and individuality become increasingly apparent. Also, living in a place, visiting a place, and hearing about a place through the media are three extremely different things. The first one is comparable to having a sibling; the way you know someone you’ve shared a home and the humdrum of daily life with is a kind of knowing that can’t be replicated. The second one is comparable to having a good extroverted friend you like to party with—it’s almost always a good time when you get together, but you rarely see each other during daylight. The last one is the equivalent of having an acquaintance you’ve never met - everything you know about them is acquired through eavesdropping on someone else’s lunch-hour gossip. Before I moved to Florida, my relationship with it sat somewhere between a good extroverted friend and an acquaintance I’d never met, but after moving here, I think we’ve entered a romance. I am in love with the true Florida, the natural Florida, with its delicious turquoise water and lush vegetation. The past decade of my life has felt overturned by uneasiness, but something about being in this place has injected me with a sense of calm. I’ve always had terrifyingly bad health, but here, among the sea and sun, I seem to have found unexpected strength. Things I struggled to do for years in other places—things I avoided out of fear—I feel like I can move through with ease here. On this controversial peninsula, I was finally able to commit to being a fine artist instead of letting my desire to paint remain just a desire. I was (and am) met with so much kindness and support from the people around me (so many complete strangers) who have helped me unconditionally on my journey as a young emerging artist.

I made this painting as a kind of love letter to Florida, a thank you to the lucky land that changed my course.

The original is 30 x 40" in size and was created using acrylics on canvas.