Philadelphia, also known as “the last place on Earth I ever expected to end up,” is thankfully the first place on Earth my life sort of makes sense…. In the craziest way possible, of course. Three summers ago, I met the third shy and smelly hitchhiker of the day while making my exodus from the beaches of North Carolina. Three days later, he and I found ourselves headed to a music festival somewhere in rural Maryland. After a few weird experiences, three hours later – we’d driven into the fair city of Philadelphia. The hitchhiker spirit and I were left with two other friends to explore the bowels of Kensington. Three of us stumbled into a local coffee shop, Rocket Cat. There we were invited to check out a party at the Berks warehouse. After deciding to go, I found my future husband was blowing off work so that he could show me the party. Three summers later we found ourselves in Wyoming doing our first artist residency together. The piece you see is representative of the cattle fences there, a testament to my continual obsession with the #3 and the triangle in which Dan, the city, and I united.