To the extent that life’s journey is most truly fulfilled by a return to a “homeland”, Americans are only recently discovering what tribal people have embraced as a sacred pact. The two-century American experiment in colonizing and settling a rugged frontier left an indigenous population in despair visited by detachment from a historical and spiritual “home”.

As an artist reared on the semi-arid plains of SW Kansas, I put forth considerable effort and energy to escape to a more culturally lucrative experience. In the interim I have sat at the feet of Leon Shenendoah, Chief of Chiefs of the Iroquois Nation, watched the sunset over the aqua-tinted coast of SW Australia near Adelaide, sipped merlot and snacked on caviar with ad executives in London’s art district, and shared cheap port and canned beans with homeless men helping to create an earthwork along the Hudson River on Manhattan’s West side. Most recently my artistic pursuits culminated in the creation of a permanent earthwork in Havana, Cuba.