A house is stops being a house the moment it is filled with life; it turns into a home. A place that each tenant intends to alter the space and make it his own. He makes his shelter out of these four empty walls and the odd furniture. And starts decorating this empty space with little pieces of himself; things that carry his signature of life.
Little by little, these “things” earn their own presence and they become fundamental elements of this domestic landscape… Sometimes they are repositioned; sometimes they get forgotten in a corner. Nevertheless, they all become something familiar that stays at your home and become a part of your life; sometimes they even stay after your departure, to become a part of the next ones’ life like an unrequested inheritance. Like a fingerprint you leave in this house; “I was here…”
The awkward thing is that, as a good probability, those souvenirs will live with you until the end of your stay. They will live even with the heritages you will have left to the next tenant, in a way that, after some years, that home is plenty of memories of others lives. Elements disposed around with a random taste, without any pattern. Elements that fill the emptiness with no criteria.
Those heritages are part of home. They are the evidence that it is not just a house anymore.
