I wanted to establish the object that will thread through this week — a brass compass rose, which carries both the promise of guidance and the cruelty of fixed directions in a world that keeps shifting. The Oromo-Silesian fusion felt right: two cultures shaped by migration, by knowing that home is often a direction rather than a destination. The salt warehouse speaks to preservation and erosion simultaneously. I needed her looking at the compass, not us — we're witnessing a private inheritance, the moment she realizes this object has been pointing toward her long before she was born.