I first felt homeless when I went to a bank in a foreign country and was asked to write down my current address.

I had nothing I could put down. I used to dream of travelling everywhere, but now I feel like I am 'nowhere. Travelling comes to an end when you have nowhere to go back to.

one temporary accommodation to another, and I started filming my friend in the places where we happened to find ourselves, looking for a place of our own and a sense of identity.

I was looking for a way of telling what home means to a person. Home as a concrete, tangible thing. Home as one’s own apartment, land, room, bed, cat or dog. I wanted to hear the answer to this question from other people because I was struggling to define what it was that I myself had lost. My home exists physically, but without me.

My home has become unsafe for me. Losing one’s home is not the same as losing one’s comfort. It is just as possible to feel homeless in an expensive hotel as it is in the cheapest hostel. You can feel homeless in an alien forest or under an alien rainbow in the sky.

This is a story about a moment in life when you lose your past but don’t see yourself in the future. All sorts of places in foreign cities suddenly begin to remind you of something from home. You are surrounded by the same friends, but you are no longer the same people you used to be at home. Losing home means losing the option of attending the funeral or the wedding of your loved ones, and hoping every day that this exile will not last forever. Sometimes I am afraid of this hope which prevents me from holding on to something and starting a new life.

In this project, I decided to talk about homelessness through my own story. At the most difficult moment, my friend and I were left without an apartment, with nothing but a mountain of suitcases to call our own, and we decided that it would be easier to cope with our changed circumstances if the two of us stuck together. Together we moved from one temporary accommodation to another, and I started filming my friend in the places where we happened to find ourselves, looking for a place of our own and a sense of identity.

This is a story about a moment in life when you lose your past but don’t see yourself in the future. All sorts of places in foreign cities suddenly begin to remind you of something from home. You are surrounded by the same friends, but you are no longer the same people you used to be at home. Losing home means losing the option of attending the funeral or the wedding of your loved ones, and hoping every day that this exile will not last forever. Sometimes I am afraid of this hope which prevents me from holding on to something and starting a new life.