My work seeks to capture feelings of homesickness for places seen through the eyes of my childhood self. The magic of these places were enhanced by a lie I was told by my grandfather, a beautiful lie, which made my industrial suburban reality much more interesting. When it was finally revealed to me as an adolescent that I had believed in a lie my whole life, I felt utterly alone. I was stuck with a reality which I had no connection to and I became a stranger to my home. Since then I have had trouble feeling like I belonged anywhere so initially I stopped looking. That is when the stories of my grandfather’s lie found their way back to me, but this time in the shape of the very familiar materials of my hometown’s textile industry. Yarns. I decided to try to create a physical space which could contain both my reality and my grandfather’s stories. So I made this basket and I stuck my head inside of it. Carefully woven into its core, I finally created a place to contain our stories. This is my home.