Love the transition of Autumn in my garden.
What it means to live in between
Most of life happens between places. According to United Nations data, in 2024 there were 304 million people living in a country other than where they were born—about 3.7 % of the world’s population. This figure hints at how many lives are shaped by multiple cultures. They learn the art of translation. The comfort of ambiguity. The ache of rootlessness.
At NEPANTLA in Mexico—named after the Nahuatl word for “in‑between” spaces—artists explored how ruins and contemporary installations collide to create new narratives, evoking the scholar Gloria Anzaldúa’s concept of threshold worlds. In Annette Miae Kim’s 2024 exhibit, layers of colored newspapers woven into flags represented the intermingling of identities and provoked emotional responses from visitors who recognised fragments of their own stories. NEPANTLA, showcased photography, sculptural furniture, textiles, ceramics, and paintings from creators across Mexico, the U.S., and Cuba. The immersive show, curated by Nadia Guitteau of ALRATITOstudio, takes its name from a Nahuatl word meaning “the in-between.” “NEPANTLA explores creativity, identity, and transformation in spaces where cultures, languages, and histories converge,” Nadia Guitteau explains, immersive show curator.(yucatanmagazine.com)
These works resonate with heritage explorers who seek to honour lineage without caricature, third‑culture collectors yearning for layered narratives, and boutique hotel curators crafting experiences that echo the cross‑currents of travellers. They speak to our own board of inner advisers: the negotiator who balances multiple loyalties, the manifesto writer who believes in creating our own myths, the mindfulness teacher who reminds us to be in the threshold rather than rush through.
Living archives and layered homes
Third‑culture kids describe their lives as living archives
Third-culture children are those who spend a significant part of their developmental years in a culture different from their parents' home country. These children develop a unique, "third culture" identity from a blend of their parents' culture (first culture) and the culture they were raised in (second culture). I definitely relate to this, being that my parents came from Hong Kong and I was raised in America.
Research notes that growing up between cultures can cultivate high adaptability and empathy while also causing feelings of loss and dislocation (blogs.ed.ac.uk). Many second‑generation immigrants talk about negotiating their identities like a contract: what do you keep, what do you renegotiate?
In design, this plays out as curated collectables and sensorial spaces that mix textures, artifacts and scents. Sustainable strategies encourage reuse and local craft, echoing the idea that our homes can be living archives rather than static showrooms hbg.design. Designers call for “color drenching,” “natural imperfections,” and “activated comfort” to re‑humanise workplaces and support well‑being haworth.com. For mindful space curators and conscious corporate leaders, art becomes a tool for emotional restoration: studies show viewing art reduces stress, lowers blood pressure, and fosters empathy.
Three quiet invitations
• Tend your living archive. Homes are diaries written in texture and scent. Let the contradictions show. Layer, don’t edit.
• Favor the calm and intrigue. Explore art that your nervous system can rest against. Artists activate comfort by creating work that is either a meditative practice for themselves, provides a sense of peace or security for the viewer through aesthetic means, or offers emotional and psychological solace.
• Notice the small crossings. Thresholds aren’t always grand. Sometimes they’re a pot of soup, a new language learned too late, or the light before a flight.
What comes next
November begins and I’m thinking of ways to celebrate the upcoming holidays. Soon I’ll head to
Château d’Orquevaux in the Champagne region—a manor perched above fields and fog—to begin my first artist residency. Two weeks of painting, walking, and writing about these in‑between spaces. No new collection this month. Just sketches, dispatches, and reflections—a series of postcards from the threshold itself.
No new collection this month. Just sketches, dispatches, and reflections—a series of postcards from the threshold itself. How you can join
Reflect: Set a timer for five minutes. Sit quietly and recall a time you felt suspended between places. What did you smell? What colour was the light? Jot it down and see what stories arise.
Share: Reply to this or tag us on social media with your reflection. We’d love to hear about your in‑between moments. Your stories might inspire a future piece.
Follow the residency: I’d love for you to follow along with the residency at Château d’Orquevaux. I’ll be sharing daily sketches and musings about in‑between spaces. You can subscribe to the blog or follow on social media to see the process unfold and share your own stories of thresholds.
My little Frenchie Pup Mimis’s first Halloween as Little Red Riding Hood or is it Baby Dracula?