Reflecting on the meaning of ‘Heimat’, I was constantly returning to a sensory experience; a spatial atmosphere, an ambience, the haptic of a specific thing, the particular smell and taste within a certain space. Many relate to moments of strong remembrance. The rough, colourful blanket of my grandmother, for example, the particular smell of coal in winter times, that one peculiar taste of spice, the fragrances of the forgotten shirt of my lover or that specific sound of raindrops on the window.

 

It is a certain notion infiltrating my senses, creating memories and a feeling of belonging. I feel like certain sceneries precisely act on something or someone’s behalf — almost as a deputy standing in for a recollection aiming to fill in the gap where lacking.