What is home? A question that is supposedly unanswerable because it is so individual and yet seems to be such a central concept in our language. If a conversation stalls, the concept of home can bring life back into the dialogue. Heated discussions that touch on migration, origin and identity and at the same time can also give rise to beautiful, unifying conversations that celebrate us all in our uniqueness. Home is multifaceted - personal, political, philosophical and historical. Is home a place, a feeling, an attitude or a person? Maybe even just my bed? If I asked ten or one hundert people, I would get just as many different answers. Home is subjective and deeply rooted within us - often difficult to put into words. Amina Abdulkadir talks about this inner, intangible feeling in her text ‘ohne Titel ’¹. Whether she is really writing about home remains subjective. Just as subjective as her own home.
        When I allow the concept of home to sink in, I also have associations with election campaigns, voting and a certain dispossession. A term that is so complex and meaningful sometimes becomes a political tool. 
I say dispossession because in discussions about Heimat, we are quick to talk about racism and right-wing populism², which makes the term lose its neutral, open meaning.  Home is about history, identity and the complex relationships between leaving, staying and coming back. It can also symbolise grief or healing. You decide for yourself what home means to you. It is a topic that affects everyone, and everyone has an opinion on it. This work is an attempt to restore the origins and deeper meaning of home.
        What is homesickness? Missing home? What is home anyway? After all, this term can even be found in the word homesickness. For me, it's not home. It's a longing. Why is it not the equivalent, the opposite, the complement? Is it just me? Is it the same for others?