I’m moving house at the moment. This evening, all my stuff was picked up and put in the back of a van. I have one night left in my Newcastle flat, where I’ve lived for the last three years, and then, from tomorrow, I’ll be remaking home in London – a city I left six years ago and never expected to return to.
Over the last few weeks, I’ve been reflecting a lot on what home means to me. Throughout my PhD (recently submitted after four years of work, thank fuck), I wrestled with arguments for its abolition and my own desires for safety. Now, as the task of rebuilding home starts over again, I feel more committed to rebuilding home as an ambiguously political act.
You can read those reflections over here on Two Bricks.