Where is my home? (Stories of my mom and me)

I have been thinking about the idea of home. As a human, in the context of a physical, spiritual, and philosophical space. Maybe we all do this when we grow older. I grew up idolising my father, and my ambitions in work and art are connected to him. My mom was fun, dramatic, and emotional. Which was a complete contrast to how I viewed my father. Now that I am thinking about my home, I realise that the idea of it was completely fulfilled by my mom. Through old archival images from my family album as well as found images that I have been collecting from ephemera dealers and flea markets, I have tried to reconstruct the fable of my childhood. This is a man’s way of finding his home by turning into the boy he used to be.