Research on Forms of Rootedness Under Conditions of Vulnerability

The World as Replica

After ten years of moving from place to place, our home had been reduced to a handful of belongings. Between storage units, furniture repositories, and basements, what was yours, what was mine, and what was ours gradually absorbed the stale smell of enclosed spaces—a smell we both knew well.

We surrendered to a nomadic existence. Without a home. Without land. In perpetual transit, probing what remains unsaid. Two people, one family in motion. Outbound journeys, waiting, silences, and conversations; return paths marked by encounters and disagreements. Compulsive images of nothingness. And two people willing to embrace transformation as an alternative to emptiness. A restless family moving out of step with time. A nucleus that trembles in the face of challenges.

There is no calm when life is lived outwardly—only images of banality born of apathy, amid my disputes and interferences with the world and its replicas.