In the midst of a pandemic, “home” has taken on a new meaning for most of us – it’s definition often changing by the week, the day, the hour. I’ve given “home” quite a bit of thought throughout my life, having lived in 7 states before graduating high school and eventually landing in New York City and now, unexpectedly, Los Angeles. New York City is the first place that’s ever truly felt like home, and while I’m still wrestling with the all-too-familiar emotions that come with suddenly uprooting oneself, these pieces, one of which is included in the Rockefeller Center’s “Flag Project” exhibition, act as a gentle reminder that all the places we’ve been, all the feelings we’ve felt, and all the people we’ve met – are with us. Our homes follow us like small, silent companions reminding us of who we are and where we’ve come from.
Companion
30.07.20 — Jessie Mahon
In the midst of a pandemic, “home” has taken on a new meaning for most of us – it’s definition often changing by the week, the day, the hour. I’ve given “home” quite a bit of thought throughout my life, having lived in 7 states before graduating high school and eventually landing in New York City and now, unexpectedly, Los Angeles. New York City is the first place that’s ever truly felt like home, and while I’m still wrestling with the all-too-familiar emotions that come with suddenly uprooting oneself, these pieces, one of which is included in the Rockefeller Center’s “Flag Project” exhibition, act as a gentle reminder that all the places we’ve been, all the feelings we’ve felt, and all the people we’ve met – are with us. Our homes follow us like small, silent companions reminding us of who we are and where we’ve come from.