Home, and what it means to us has been one of the questions that I have ben asking myself during this journey. I used to think of the cliché, one feels at home anywhere if we are at peace within. Since being on the road and resigning that luxury, I have come to realise there is much more to home. I have missed simple details like having a bed of my own…which led me to realise that nomads, even if they are on the move, have their tents/ bed with them. My nomadism doesn’t. Home is also a place I can come back to at difficult times, or at good times in fact.A place to be centered. I have since then asked a lot around me on my journey what makes a home. One answer really surprised me but it does make perfect sense. It was only told to me by males: one cannot feel truely at home anywhere while having money worries. I suppose that relates to the feeling of security, safety and comfort and the very primal role of the man.Home therefore can be as much a physical space as an abstract one that houses a certain set of states, feeling and emotions. Home has to do with the inner, inside, the circle.
It goes beyond the simple walls of the dwelling, dwelling that in Morocco for example is very sheltered from the outside world and view, with either high walls around the gardens and big doors.Doors are important, they are this connection and divide between outside and inside, sometimes magnificent and grand, humble simple but still beautiful and colourful.Even the roads can have doors, the door ti the desert for example. Comparatively in China, the house extends in the street, from people sitting outside with tables and chairs on the pavement to even hanging the clothes to dry on the street.
I recently came accross this little text.
Le Turk, an amazing and inspiring photographer whom I follow the work with great interest wrote: Comme un chien va à sa niche…
Le monde des hommes aussi est fait de niches. Des niches culturelles et artistiques. Une niche est bien plus qu’un ensemble de références et d’inspirations. C’est un moyen de se mettre les pieds au chaud dans les pantoufles communes du convenu. C’est un moyen aussi d’avoir quelques croquettes, quelques caresses. Alors oui, si nous sommes tous des chiens, je serai un chien. Un chien galeux, errant, sans collier, sans gamelle, un peu con, et qui grogne, un peu libre de ne faire que ce que moi seul peut faire.
Comme un chien, va, va à ta niche, il se peut que moi, ma biche, de ne pas avoir de laisse, j’en crève. Crever sur le pavé mouillé…? Chiche…
If I translate it it means.:
As a dog goes to its niche…
The world of men is also made of niches. Cultural and artistic niches. A niche is more than a set of references and inspirations. It is a way to put the feet warm in the slippers of the commonalities and the agreed. It is a way to be stroked and to have some biscuits. Then Yes, if we are all dogs, I will be a dog. A mangy dog, wandering, without collar, without a dish, a little stupid, grunting, growing free to do what only I can do.
Like a dog, go, go to your niche, my sweet, I , myself, may die, without leash. Dying on the wet pavement …?Bitch.
Latitude 34 