Any place… Temporarily.
Everywhere I sleep or lodge turns into home.
Some were just places, hotels, friends’ apartments, “beach cabinet”… My parents’ house. A few felt better than others yet I never felt home, neither now that I’m on my own.
That feeling went lost a long time ago. I’ll always be searching, looking for a place to prove me wrong, hoping for this constant feeling to go away. Now I know for sure: it’s me.
I have two countries. One I truly know, it’s the place that saw me grow… The other, it’s the place where I was born. For me, the sense of home fades with aging, like a wooden floor, and houses are what’s left when the comfort is gone.
— ARobin, 24, Chicago
The Home( )House Project is looking for opinions.
– How do you experience displacement: the evolving conceptualization of home and house?
– What is a HOUSE / What is a HOME?
– Have you ever visualized home without feeling at home or felt at home without a home existing being there?
– What is in it for you when the transformation, that occur when you travel and grow up, changes your persona? When your home feels like a house and yet your house doesn’t feel like a home?
Participants are invited to produce a paragraph that concerns the topic above described sharing their point of view (experience, feelings and/or thoughts) and to send it to: firstname.lastname@example.org
(include general info about yourself: name, age, city.)
Detailed PDF attached below.
“There it was: a pale yellow modernist house, perched precariously on the edge of San Francisco’s Telegraph Hill. As the hill eroded, so did the foundations of the house. At first, chunks of rock fell, then pieces of the house”. […] “When a beautiful house falls apart this way, the image of loss is grand and public, and it stays lodged in the mind. It stayed lodged in my mind for another reason: I loved that house once. It was where I spent my first night when I moved to San Francisco in 1976”.
Geography of Home, writings on where we live – Preface pp.11