The car was zooming down Interstate 8 from California to Arizona. The afternoon sun was playing hide and seek behind white fluffy clouds after a winter storm had come through the area bringing tons of rain and snow to higher elevations. The brisk wind was still whipping strong as I exited the car at the rest area just 1.5 miles north of the Mexican border. I had been watching a dark line run parallel to the highway for some time before I realized that I was that close to the border and that the dark line was a giant fence demarcating the boundary. Overhead, I had been watching geese fly south for the warmer weather, crossing state and national borders without even a hindrance of difficulty. Borders. They surround us wherever we are. Sometimes it’s our perceived identity, our actions, our education, our compassion (or lack thereof). Sometimes it’s cultural, a language, a dietary habit. We are always dealing with boundaries and borders. So, when I stopped at the rest stop for the sand dune park that provides escape from some of these borders, I found an amazing spot to place this sweater. This sign, full of it’s own inherent cultural identity, still represents a longing for boundary breaking, a desire to be free from the normal activities that we are all consumed with in order to live. It was a sign that that was completely expressive of who we are at one moment. And it seemed the perfect place for a sweater.