“Where is your home?”
“Are you coming back home? do you want to stay abroad forever? What’s your plan?”
These are questions I often receive on daily basis. Sometimes I wonder about the meaning of them, are they just #kepo or simply care about my situation?
and sometimes I’m too exhausted to explain my concept of home to some fuddy-duddies again and again.
Look, sometimes home is not where you were born; home is where all your attempts to escape cease (says, Naguib Mahfouz). Because I don’t want to be stuck anymore. I want to pull myself out there. Explore them. To feel the rush of happiness. To go on adventures where I can be fearless like nothing can stop me. I want to get the chance to breathe in different cities before my last breath escapes me.
Anyway, here I doodled two houses (a typical old Belgian house—where I currently live and a joglo house—where I was born) and as the representation of what I could call homes, despite any love-hate-relationships with these places.
|#wip and inspirations|