“You know, they straightened out the Mississippi River in places, to make room for houses and livable acreage. Occasionally the river floods these places. ‘Floods’ is the word they use, but in fact it is not flooding; it is remembering. Remembering where it used to be. All water has a perfect memory and is forever trying to get back to where it was. Writers are like that: remembering where we were, what valley we ran through, what the banks were like, the light that was there and the route back to our original place. It is emotional memory — what the nerves and the skin remember as well as how it appeared. And a rush of imagination if is our ‘flooding.'”
– Toni Morrison, excerpt from The Site of Memory, What Moves at the Margin: Selected Nonfiction
The only way to know your place in the world is to have a home to use as a reference point. It doesn’t matter where your home is. It could be at a railway station in Nairobi or in your wife’s loving arms. We all need a place to retreat to when shit hits the fan. We all need a single point in the universe to attach our roots.
Luckily, I have two: Texas and the Philippines. These are the two places in opposite hemispheres where I can rest my bones after bouncing around the globe. This photo series is not really a project, but more like a reminder that home equals familiarity no matter how far away and different each one is; that a house is not just made of walls and a roof, but of memories.
The photos are diptychs: the left-side images are from my home in Texas and the right-side photos were taken at my home in the Philippines.