Oklahoma Skies

Oklahoma is a beautiful place. Believe me.

When my husband and I crossed into Oklahoma on our way to Virginia, a spectacle of organic colors revealed itself after miles of dry, pale land. The rolling hills stretched all the way to the horizon, rising in gentle waves of grass and brush, and the color clung more richly to the distant slopes. It felt like a prediction of what was coming next.

Oklahoma skies are the widest I have ever seen, and their infinite shades looked so good against all that big open space. It’s as if sky and land are in communion there, sacralized by a chalky morning mist that rises above the ridges, giving off an aura of mystery I felt eager to explore.

Being in Oklahoma brought a familiar feeling —an emotional submersion into a childhood memory, where hay and swallows ruled the landscape.

We are intertwined with our surroundings in ways we sometimes overlook. Just like water shapes mountain ranges, the land shapes our thoughts and our feelings. Thus, I felt a little crack widen inside me when I was in Oklahoma. If I could have peeked into it, I would have seen my younger self riding my bike through fields of wheat in my small town in Northern Italy. The difference now was that I was in a much bigger, wider place —so big it seemed to hold past, present, and future all at once.

When we left Oklahoma behind, I had the sensation that there’s a different America in every state. This country feels like the sky over places like Oklahoma —so many shades of color, and it’s impossible to pick a favorite.

Gouache on paper, 5×7”