My home

After about 4 years of “modern-nomadic-lifestyle” moving from one place to the next with just a few things in my backpack, I appreciate now having again a place that I call “my home”.

What makes it my home?

It’s the presence of things that mean something to me or that I simply like and that make me feel good. A place like a little oasis. A shelter. A warm and cosy place. Room for being. Space for creativity, expression. Silence. Nature around. Sound. Dance. A place to cook and eat and having a tea. A space to retreat. And to meet. It is also the painting on the wall from an artist friend I met on Bali and from another I made in Rio de Janeiro. It means photos on the walls from my journey. And it also means ‘less is more’, every few months cleaning and freeing up space (just as I used to do with my backpack). And last but not least, it’s also finding my name at the door.

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