“In the middle of the great ocean, in a region that no one ever goes, there is a mysterious and isolated island ; there is no land to be called neighbor and at more than eight hundred leagues in every direction lays only the vast empty immensity rolling environment.”

Pierre Loti, 1872. Journal d’un aspirant de la Flore.

It’s first inhabitants called it - The Earths End. Their vessels having been destroyed, these navigators tricked their dismay by erecting monumental statues in effigy to their ancestors. Perched along the coast, staring at the stars, they all turned their backs to the sea. By encircling the islanders, they mask the horizon as if to deter any invasion plans. Several centuries later, most of these ancestors have fallen and the people of Easter Island had a new set of beliefs called bird-man.

In the shadow of those still standing, I think of my father's broad silhouette, a small island tattooed on his shoulder. There are kingdoms that we must leave to strive for freedom.