j o h n r a u x

Diaspora, 8.5inx14.5in, acrylic on paper 2012
(The Art of Giving opens this Friday night, December 7th @Mattie Rhodes Gallery)
The art sales will go towards Mattie Rhodes programming and the Wine sales(with the show’s paintings as the labels) will go towards arts scholarships in Oaxaca, Mexico.
In the summer of 1996, I left Kansas City to go to college in Los Angeles. It was the first time I remember feeling displaced. The first year was hell. My heart was with my friends, my family, my place. I was always talking about KC, always calling back home, always struggling with the new and strange horizon lines.
It seems we never know what we have until its gone.
On my first return home, something changed. I found myself always talking of LA, always projecting about future projects, already loosening the binds of the familiar for an ever larger experience of unforeseen life.
Home has a way of finding its way to us when our vantage of place is on the move.
Diaspora literally means “through sowing, or spreading out”. In agricultural terms, this displacement is the beginning of where the old life is transformed into the new.
Many of my friends work with the Bhutanese and Nepali refugees here in Kansas City. My travels through the Himalayas and my KCK friends have taught me that the national boundaries do not make up our identities. The refugee knows how precious home is, wherever that home may be found. In you. In me. In here. In now. We’re all refugees sowing our lives in the land of each other.

Diaspora, 8.5inx14.5in, acrylic on paper 2012

(The Art of Giving opens this Friday night, December 7th @Mattie Rhodes Gallery)

The art sales will go towards Mattie Rhodes programming and the Wine sales(with the show’s paintings as the labels) will go towards arts scholarships in Oaxaca, Mexico.

In the summer of 1996, I left Kansas City to go to college in Los Angeles. It was the first time I remember feeling displaced. The first year was hell. My heart was with my friends, my family, my place. I was always talking about KC, always calling back home, always struggling with the new and strange horizon lines.

It seems we never know what we have until its gone.

On my first return home, something changed. I found myself always talking of LA, always projecting about future projects, already loosening the binds of the familiar for an ever larger experience of unforeseen life.

Home has a way of finding its way to us when our vantage of place is on the move.

Diaspora literally means “through sowing, or spreading out”. In agricultural terms, this displacement is the beginning of where the old life is transformed into the new.

Many of my friends work with the Bhutanese and Nepali refugees here in Kansas City. My travels through the Himalayas and my KCK friends have taught me that the national boundaries do not make up our identities. The refugee knows how precious home is, wherever that home may be found. In you. In me. In here. In now. We’re all refugees sowing our lives in the land of each other.

  • 1 December 2012
  • 3

Support the Journey