Every Home : 1992 - 2022

Every Home delves into the intricate interplay between the elusive sense of belonging, displacement, and the formulation of domestic identity. The project draws inspiration from the theory that the embodiment of home memory extends beyond a mere physical space, intertwining with our corporeal existence and self-perception. Architectural spaces -  both from our past and present - are posited as active agents that persistently resonate with our senses, experiences, and self-conception.

Within the theoretical underpinning, the development of self-awareness is paralleled with the unfolding narrative of our homes. Much like aspects of self-understanding that linger on the periphery of consciousness, our homes articulate a narrative, subtly revealing the intricate story of who we are. Seemingly inconspicuous elements of geography and aesthetics, when investigated for significance, transcend the physical realm, weaving a complex tapestry of energetic and experiential narratives.

The project theorizes a synergistic relationship between self-knowledge and spatial-knowledge, where each facet unveils intersecting truths. This exploration invites contemplation on the profound connections between the self and the spaces we inhabit, illustrating how domesticity becomes a theoretical lens through which to interpret and engage with the intricate dance of identity, memory, and space.


These are images of *most* of the homes I’ve lived in (at least of the addresses I could remember or could find). These gooey, warped satellite renderings capture the essence of a home sitting softly within my memory; surreal in the way it warps time along the horizon; how 15 minutes felt when you were seven, and how the whole year of seven now feels like 15 minutes.

Home has always been fraught - growing up, I moved around so often - on average about one a year since I was a kid - that my identity actively shapeshifted to fit each new context. I was a fluid being, moving between vessels. I was learning agility and adaptation - skewed toward first social impressions, cultural context, and whichever awkward chapter I was now in. Home is an embodied state of constant flux.

Home is a feeling; shells of coalescing historical sensations, within them, everything and nothing. Like bodies, relationships, smells, textures, landscapes, yards, views, communities, relatives, dinners, bathtubs, beds, weather, isolation, joy, depression, comfort, discomfort,  home is sensations held in my body. The rest is just a projection. Home is a dialogue.

Home is a verb ~ like home-making, if only it didn’t have rigid patriarchal and religious associations of my upbringing. Home is the act of deconstructing and reconstructing--all that remains in the end is an essence. The verb of home-making is an active - and impossible -  balance between solitude, nature, & other.

Home is a suitcase. Home is Earth, water, air, the space between, an epidermic hug. Home is fleeting.

I savour the moments when I feel ~home~