Home

When I think about the idea I have of home, even before the people who live there, I think about the repeated actions that make me recognize that environment as home. Not blood, not bloodline, not parental relationship, but instead care, the familiar sound of a cup, the music to decorate the Christmas tree, breakfasts, leafing through a book when it is evening, the daily correction of schoolwork, this is for me the visual and aural chorus of what is familiar. And the periodic repetition of this chorus has transformed it into a language I recognize and through which I now also communicate.