It’s already late here, in bed, puzzled – why am I calling this place home aside from the fact that I was born and raised here? What would be that something if they are not what they were I wouldn’t call it a home today? To think and ask such question is quite defying realizing I have never really considered and claimed anywhere my home but here and it’s scary to lose it even in imagination.
Personally, home is more of a feeling than a physical thing. Perhaps if I did not have much memory in this place, I wouldn’t call it a home. If it weren’t for the people I call a family, I may not call it a home. Home for me is somewhere that makes me feel the sense of haven and belonging where everyone can be comfortable with their own skin. This feeling is transformed by time. Probably home like family is a state of mind shaped by experience.
I would assume what makes a place a home is that ultimate experience we created. And for it to call your home it’s not enough to glance at it from a distance or for once. We need to look at it closer, engage, comprehend and discern its soul. It is maybe the reason why the photograph I chose to portray home is a closer shot of an element at home.
Home is the closest thing I’ve ever been to.
*Blogging University Photo101 Day 1