« What is home to you? The arms of your lover or the place where you hide from the fingers of your demons? Is it the road ahead or the chair where you’ll seat at the end of the journey? Is it a travelling circus tent, a sinking ship or the lighthouse that stands on solid ground? Is it the place where you live or the resting ground for your ageing bones? Is it a hill on sacred ground or the stones that pave the floor for a godless revolution?

Is it a nameless street, the walls of a room or a wooden drawer filled with the memories of youth? Is it a wish, a lost possession or that thing beating inside your chest? Is it a crowded stage without a ceiling, a silent corridor or the tinkling sound of a music box with dancing dolls? Is it a landscape on canvas, the dust covering your floor or is it the simple comfort of having a body that knows no pain? »