Where Did You Feel At Home | And How Long Did It Take Till That Was Swept Away

This piece examines the sense of instability and displacement I feel.

As I have moved from place to place, it’s becomes more difficult to maintain friendships over space and time. When I find myself in a new home, I try to put up images of people I’ve met during my journeys, that have become like family.

Yet, I am never able to complete this one simple task. So, I ask myself, why not?

This piece plays a dual role as a documentation of an attempt to hold on to my found family, and a physical manifestation of my instability.


Final Year Project MA Contemporary Photography 

I was having a conversation with my friend as she looked at my work. She said to me:

“I’m not surprised your photography is so melancholic, you’re so sleep deprived, and, home deprived.’

I think melancholy happens to you when you're lost in transit. You can't readjust to your original location, but you don't quite know the frequency of where you are now. It sits in the space between home and displacement.

This exchange is at the heart of Home For Now.

This barrel has been sat empty in the living room of my aunt’s house for the past 12 months. We wait to fill it up with clothes, food items, old laptops and shoes for family and community members back in Gambia who don’t have these items.

For most people it’s odd to have a barrel in your living room. For us, it is not unusual. This is an important way of expressing our love for family back home. A symbol of love and loss

We all go around carrying things on us. Where do we drop these feelings? Who do we turn to or do we go on, lost in transit; new day same load?

Home For Now asks how we can lean on each other, ground one another and give space to our feelings and their complexities.

When The Party’s Over

Postcards From Home

somewhere WHERE

© damivaughan