a long as i remember i never fully felt at home.

for the longest time i thought that the reason was the place. it simply was a wrong place and i felt obligated and hungry to keep moving and keep looking for that one place that is going to feel right, that one place i can relax in and call it home.

working on this project made me wonder f there is perhaps a different reason for my experience. maybe something else in my history makes every place feel like a cold cave.

maybe it all traces back to shame?
maybe the reason is unprocessed grief?

let me explain.
since i was old enough to understand the way things are, the way my country operates, it began to sicken me.
how can it be that the world that was once wide open bares these stinking people who decided to destroy my home, a place that was supposed to be my home.
how can it be that i am ashamed to hold my flag at the independence day parade, while my friends around the world so proudly cheer.

i never understood how bad the situation was, how deeply ashamed of my roots i was and how strongly t affected my well being.
it seems impossible to connect with any place when there is no place that i trace back to, when everything that was there is denied and erased by my dark and sinking shame.

this project made me realise a disastrous identity crisis i've been living with and i intend to use the time i have to figure out how i can heal.