Home...I guess I'm already there
It's Refugee Week and a lovely meme is circulating the globe. Beginning in Scotland, Wendy via Johanna ask for three photos that represent “home”.
“Home” rouses complex emotions for me. I was born and raised in the same house til I left at 18 and began the semi-nomadic existence of a student/traveller/housemate. After living in Wellington, Sydney and London, on a third visit to Melbourne it was anointed as my home. Though oddly I can be "home" in New Zealand or Australia, yet homesick for something quite intangible. I often catch myself singing the melancholy lyrics of a Talking Heads song:
When you move to a different country on your own and live in a new place with no family, the concept of “home” changes. I am lucky; I did this through my own volition. What is more, I am free to go back to my birthplace and revisit my old life as well as the people in it, whenever I choose.
I have been privileged to get to know a number of political refugees - their lives threatened by brutal regimes, perilous journeys, not being welcome in a foreign land, finally gaining entry to another country with odd customs and an even stranger language, starting from scratch. I salute you! May Australia grow more tolerant and understanding, for it is a better country with you all in it.
What does home mean to me?
Wellington, New Zealand
These misty hills of green are my true home. I may kick against it sometimes but this is the landscape, the people and the culture that shaped who I am.
bricks and mortar
The roof and walls that create my own tiny home. I love this table best surrounded by people talking, laughing, eating soup.
loving creatures
A home is an empty shell without living creatures. The Significant Eater, our friends and the community provide the heart.
But lets be honest, it’s the cats that really welcome me home at the end of the day!
Please feel free to do this meme if it inspires you - three photos on the theme "what does home mean to you?" - check out Wendy's link above for more details.
“Home” rouses complex emotions for me. I was born and raised in the same house til I left at 18 and began the semi-nomadic existence of a student/traveller/housemate. After living in Wellington, Sydney and London, on a third visit to Melbourne it was anointed as my home. Though oddly I can be "home" in New Zealand or Australia, yet homesick for something quite intangible. I often catch myself singing the melancholy lyrics of a Talking Heads song:
Home - is where I want to be
But I guess I'm already there
When you move to a different country on your own and live in a new place with no family, the concept of “home” changes. I am lucky; I did this through my own volition. What is more, I am free to go back to my birthplace and revisit my old life as well as the people in it, whenever I choose.
I have been privileged to get to know a number of political refugees - their lives threatened by brutal regimes, perilous journeys, not being welcome in a foreign land, finally gaining entry to another country with odd customs and an even stranger language, starting from scratch. I salute you! May Australia grow more tolerant and understanding, for it is a better country with you all in it.
What does home mean to me?
Wellington, New Zealand
These misty hills of green are my true home. I may kick against it sometimes but this is the landscape, the people and the culture that shaped who I am.
bricks and mortar
The roof and walls that create my own tiny home. I love this table best surrounded by people talking, laughing, eating soup.
loving creatures
A home is an empty shell without living creatures. The Significant Eater, our friends and the community provide the heart.
But lets be honest, it’s the cats that really welcome me home at the end of the day!
Please feel free to do this meme if it inspires you - three photos on the theme "what does home mean to you?" - check out Wendy's link above for more details.
posted by GS at 4:59 pm
10 morsels
