Longing & Belonging

“Alright, one last look at the Earth. This is some good news—the Earth is still beautiful. An Earth in crisis is still an Earth worth returning to.”

— NASA astronaut Andrew R. Morgan

In April 2020, during his final days aboard the International Space Station as part of Expedition 62, Morgan was asked how he felt about returning to an Earth grappling with climate change and the COVID-19 crisis. Ono remembers Morgan’s response vividly—it came just days after Ono’s first art project for the ISS, Nothing, Something, Everything (2020), concluded with CRS-20’s splashdown in the Pacific Ocean.

In February 2022, one of the three works from that same project, Longing and Belonging (2020–ongoing), returned to the ISS on board Cygnus NG-17. Despite the microgravity environment in Low Earth Orbit, a magnet remains drawn to Earth’s strong magnetic field. A cylindrical magnet that orients itself toward Earth’s magnetic North and South—even in the absence of gravity and regardless of location—serves as a metaphor for human longing and the sense of belonging.

The ISS represents over two decades of sustained human presence in outer space and is expected to deorbit as early as 2024. As of April 2021, it had hosted 244 individuals from 19 countries, with some astronauts visiting as many as five times. The second flight of Longing and Belonging creates a resonance with these repeated visits and our ongoing presence in space. The magnet becomes an object that embodies human emotion in the context of space exploration. It is a journey taken far from home, only to return—to where we belong.

Looking beyond 2022, Ono imagines the project’s final destination to be the Moon.

“When it lands on the lunar surface, where there is no magnetic field, the magnet will remain motionless, quietly existing as an artifact from a nearby planet called Earth.”

Longing and Belonging is also Ono’s urgent attempt to hold on to a reality that is transforming at light speed amid global political inaction. It is a contemporary artifact from the future—yet a lament for our past. It is a creative call to celebrate and protect what remains of our endangered planet. A rare act of survival. A last-minute gesture to carve out a space for resistance—and for hope.