Home is a Privilege
This work is created as an emotional response to the life of a nomadic artist in parallel to the current mass exodus of refugees from Syria who are now barred from entry into the United States because of a recent executive order created by President Trump. The artist, rejected by her family because of her beliefs, took the initiative to create art in different parts of the world, enabling her to understand and experience the emotional stress of not having family to rely on, not having a real home for the past several years, moving from one artist residency to the other, searching for the meaning in the word home. This work is intended to inspire some understanding from the public of the trauma and feelings surrounding displacement, whether by force or by necessity, and the acceptance, that home is a place accessible to only the privileged few.
Home is a Privilege
Privilege makes it a place known to all, a public entity,
while privacy envelops it with individuality.
An evasive eruption of mystery and loss, it is a foreign concept, ever elusive, it runs through space always ahead and never looking back to be sure that I follow, a parent self-assured that I will always be there; and yet, completely lost,
I am blind to its existence.
In and of itself, I can master it, define it, give it a location, but meaningless, it floats away from me, without connection or solidarity, nothingness pervades.
What is it that makes a home? I try once more to wrap it with my wounds, skin grafting and bones attaching, but the reminder being omniscient, calls out, stranger, foreigner, terms oddly permissive in their nature in allowing one meaning to override another. Human should connect us over stranger, foreigner, yet it does not, a dominance provided through dominion, defines my nationality, wherever I plot the point that grounds me in this terrestrial kingdom.
Gasping, a sigh of futility, a sigh of inequity wherever I go I am the shadow, which forms your identity, a contrast to your own definition of self and distinction, home is a privilege unavailable to me, an unimaginable entity.