One year ago, I was was feeling my way around a staggering city. Istanbul was inspiring, dark, stimulating, chaotic, full of winding streets and strange smells, and I felt as though I were a speck among its enormity. I had come for an awaking, both for myself and for my artwork, and as weighty as my experience could be at times, I knew I was embarking on something life altering. It has taken some time to adjust to life back in the United States. The curious sounds, sights, tastes and occurrences of Istanbul had become home to me. Daily adventures and struggles were no longer met with surprise, but with familiarity and acceptance. As I begin to recall and reflect upon this last year, my paintbrush has started its perpetual movement, and I don’t predict it to stop anytime soon.