inner places

This series describes the inner state of not knowing where I belong

At home, there is no nightstand beside my bed. For a few days or weeks, this room will be yours. When I'm on the road, the question always crosses my mind: Would I want to live here forever? And inevitably, this question is linked to: Am I living in the place where I want to live? Do I life in the house, the city, the country where I belong?

I've often pondered whether feeling at home depends on a place, a country, a city, a house. For almost 2/3 of my life, I haven't lived in my homeland. Yet, I don't feel at home here. But my country of origin is no longer home either. Every time I arrive somewhere for work or vacation, I have a strong desire to make the place my own immediately. I love discovering and experiencing new cities.

Many people cherish the feeling of coming home after a journey. When I have to leave again, a profound melancholy overwhelms me because I'm returning to a place that feels very familiar but not like home. In this, there is a deep sense of loneliness. My photos capture this feeling.