I always felt an internal struggle between the “here” and the “somewhere else”. The pull of ones roots and the dream to travel. For so long I felt like I was on both sides of this conflict between the familiar and the foreign.

Today, whether by choice, disposition or circumstance, I identify unquestionably with those who are on the outside. Not belonging has become my artistic country.

My sole belongings are my books, close to a comfortable chair and a hot bath or a beach, underneath the light of a reading lamp in the middle of the night.

Salman Rushide