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Thirteen year old Brian Robeson is forced to crash land a small plane in the Canadian north woods after the pilot has a heart attack.  Alone, and with no clue to his whereabouts, Brian builds a shelter against a rock face on the third day of his ordeal.  He considers searching for berries near the lake he crashed on…

“If he kept the lake in sight as he had done yesterday he should be all right, should be able to find home again—and it stopped him.  He had actually thought it that time.
Home.  Three days, no, two—or was it three?  Yes, this was the third day and he had thought of the shelter as home.
He turned and looked at it, studied the crude work.  The brush made a fair wall, not weather tight but it cut most of the wind off.  He hadn’t done so badly at that.  Maybe it wasn’t much, but also maybe it was all he had for a home.
All right, he thought, so I’ll call it home.”

From the book, Hatchet, by Gary Paulsen.  Copyright 1987 by Gary Paulsen

“Art is always transgressive.  What I always say is, we need to transgress in love.  We, today, have a language to celebrate waywardness, but we do not have a cultural language to bring people back home.”

—Makoto Fujimura, abstract contemporary artist and illuminator of The Four Holy Gospels, a manuscript published by Crossway Publishing in commemoration of the 400th anniversary of The King James Version Bible in 1611.