Connecting Worlds
I grew up on a sprawling 100-acre dairy in a tight Dutch community in Los Angeles with pastures as far as the eye could see and the scent of manure in the air. “Smells like money,” my brother would say.
I was surrounded with all things Dutch: parents, relatives, visitors, church, the Dutch bakery, the Christian schools, and eventually I was sent to a Dutch college just in case I hadn’t gotten the message yet.
The first order of business In meeting other Dutch immigrants is to find out how you were related, because you were. It’s referred to as Dutch Bingo.
It was a community that took care of you from birth to the grave and everywhere in between.
So much security I found it stifling.
I got out and lived with people in vastly different cultures: Africans of all sorts (and there are many!), Europeans (including Brits), Asians, black and white, rich and poor, and people who thought the food of heaven was dried fish.
The best innovations happen at the margins.
I grew up on a sprawling 100-acre dairy in a tight Dutch community in Los Angeles with pastures as far as the eye could see and the scent of manure in the air. “Smells like money,” my brother would say.
I was surrounded with all things Dutch: parents, relatives, visitors, church, the Dutch bakery, the Christian schools, and eventually I was sent to a Dutch college just in case I hadn’t gotten the message yet.
The first order of business In meeting other Dutch immigrants is to find out how you were related, because you were. It’s referred to as Dutch Bingo.
It was a community that took care of you from birth to the grave and everywhere in between.
So much security I found it stifling.
I got out and lived with people in vastly different cultures: Africans of all sorts (and there are many!), Europeans (including Brits), Asians, black and white, rich and poor, and people who thought the food of heaven was dried fish.
The best innovations happen at the margins.
I grew up on a sprawling 100-acre dairy in a tight Dutch community in Los Angeles with pastures as far as the eye could see and the scent of manure in the air. “Smells like money,” my brother would say.
I was surrounded with all things Dutch: parents, relatives, visitors, church, the Dutch bakery, the Christian schools, and eventually I was sent to a Dutch college just in case I hadn’t gotten the message yet.
The first order of business In meeting other Dutch immigrants is to find out how you were related, because you were. It’s referred to as Dutch Bingo.
It was a community that took care of you from birth to the grave and everywhere in between.
So much security I found it stifling.
I got out and lived with people in vastly different cultures: Africans of all sorts (and there are many!), Europeans (including Brits), Asians, black and white, rich and poor, and people who thought the food of heaven was dried fish.
The best innovations happen at the margins.
8 x 8” oil on wood panel. Framed size, 9 1/2 x 9 1/2 x 1”.