this is an ongoing iniciative to capture the genius loci of my “fluid” homes, 99,99% of which represent the cheapest rooms in town…I often wonder how many dreams the bed mattress remembers or how many last thoughts before reaching sufficient count of sheeps (black and white) are burried beneath the pillow case. Rooms, sometimes windowless boxes where walls not only have ears but can also talk as they absorb handwritings of some of those last moment cries towards the night, dawn, morning, day, afternoon… I also forgot how much it ment to me before (and still does…) to have “MY OWN” mattress, seems that they all become “my own” now in an evanescent way

there is a slovak proverb (google claims it’s hungarian…just ignore it pls) “It’s good everywhere, but the best at home“…perhaps an alternation “It’s good everywhere, why to be home then” would be suitable in this case

anyway, to have “MY OWN” mattress would be just great too…