I've rescued tin can tops from the woods, an old shovel, discarded. I've confined them & tied them to rocks & confined rocks & drawn boundaries. None of these things are naturally in place. I draw a comparison to people in their movements and migrations. Our modes of transportation have accelerated our ability to relocate and the result may be striking, but it's not at all a natural happening and it threatens to erode our cultures, like rusted metal. We can bind ourselves together, draw lines of ownership and define the boundaries all we want, but nothing is permanent and no one really belongs.