I own a small watercolor painting by the 18th-century Danish artist J.P. Møller, which I inherited from my father. I don’t think he would have given it to me when he was alive, as he really loved it as well. I think he probably got it from his parents because it was always hanging in my childhood home. It could even be something that his parents got from my great-grandfather. It’s a landscape painting, and it’s eerily similar to the view from my father’s house in the south of France, where we spent a lot of time together, so it feels very familiar, and it has special significance for me. The painting is now hanging in my bedroom, which is where I have the pieces that I love the most. It’s the last thing I would get rid of if I had to sell everything I own, and I This story is from Kinfolk Issue Thirty-Seven Buy Now Related Stories Arts & Culture Issue 19 Going Incognito We all secretly wonder what mischief we’d make if invisible: When our identity is hidden, everything seems possible. Arts & Culture Issue 19 The Best Policy Sometimes we talk to each other without feeling heard. Honesty—a most intimate interaction—can be just as thrilling as its more devious inverse. Arts & Culture Issue 19 A Sense of Suspense With unhinged imaginations and mountains of cliff-hangers, the filmmakers behind the sci-fi podcast Limetown have all the makings of a scary story. Arts & Culture Issue 19 Like Clockwork In this new column about time, we learn how slipping off our watches makes us feel like deadline-damning renegades. Arts & Culture Music Issue 19 On a Grander Scale Malaysian singer-songwriter Yuna now may live on the opposite side of the globe, but she’s determined to evolve while staying true to her roots. Arts & Culture Issue 19 Neighborhood: Fire Stations The firefighting profession has evolved over time from Ancient Rome’s rudimentary bucket brigades to today’s sleek life-saving departments.