The balance of home is precarious. The search for this place is a process of construction, de-construction and re-construction. Whether rooted or up-rooted our origins remain with us. The up-rooted with clumps of the motherland dangling beneath, finding nourishment here and there along the journey and all the while subconsciously searching for that place to call home again. This place is a mystery for many of us in today’s cosmopolitan and transient society where ephemeral dwellings become commonplace and the ease of access to information and travel sparks curiosity.
This place called home becomes caught between memories of childhood and aspirations for the future. It hurts to discover that the childhood home has been outgrown. The memory betrays us and it is only after futile attempts at rekindling the past that we learn to move on.
If this place called home is found, even in fleeting moments, it forms an extension of the body or it succumbs to the manipulation of society, the illusion of perfection, and is engulfed by the material home.
In the struggle to keep up in a world that is changing fast with borders extending, nostalgic memories and traditions tug against our hunger for the new and the better and the more comfortable. This evokes confusion and questions and most importantly the search for a fine balance between past, present and future.
Text & image by Gemma Higginbotham
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