Homeleaving is thinking in the mother tongue but speaking in others: my native language hovers in the deepest layers of my unciounscious self to pay me back in reverse when I’ll be persuaded that I have almost extuingished each and every of its trace. Homeleaving is seeing the sky in colours I wasn’t aware of their existence.
Homeleaving is the excitement of everything new and awkward – cities and people – unexpectably found with new rules and mentalities.
Homeleaving is the inevitable nostalgy of not seeing loved ones any more – appreciating, as if for the first time, the nuances of their every gesture, the contours of their beloved faces taken for granted.
Homeleaving carries whatever we have been , far away
Into the new world, deformed and somehow idealized.
Homeleaving is fitting (adjusting) into – and even constructing – a brand new skin.
Homeleaving is renewal.
* as we say Homecoming ...
