Home may be a place that you know well. Or a space that resonates with you. Or something that seems elusive. The feeling of being most at home is a multi-layered, complex construct, and it can be hard to explain.
As someone who is often caught in between Eastern and Western cultures and has lived in different countries surrounded by different languages, no place has ever felt like home to me. About a year ago, an evening stroll inspired me to think a bit more about this thing called home.
Striding down the Princes Bridge, the crisp autumn air picks up. Pulling the zipper up my puffer jacket, it is just another routine evening of sunset photography in Melbourne CBD. The cold is always a familiar part of it at this time of the year in May, no surprises.