Sunday, 25 December 2016

No 25

By Rob

Our Christmas instsllation takes the form of a stencil....

Everyone deserves a place to call home. It is simple as that. However, not everyone has a place to call home or the luxury of choosing the place where they want to call home. 
As we celebrate the holidays, my thoughts are with the many refugees who are fleeing from places such as Syria, Afghanistan and South Sudan due to war. They have been uprooted from a place they have called home by circumstances out of their control. As a result, many of them have made a treacherous journey in search of a new home in Europe. Instead of finding a welcome mat, many have found themselves locked out of their new home.
My thoughts take me back to the story of when God became a refugee. Shortly after Jesus was born, he and his family found themselves uprooted against their own will from their homeland of Palestine and forced to flee to Egypt because there was a genocide of young boys taking place. 
My thoughts take me to the present as I reflect on what is happening in my neighbourhood. Droves of people who have made Hackney home for years are being pushed out of the neighbourhood against their own will as they can no longer afford to pay the rent. In the coming new year there will be 1,000 fewer social housing options available as they are redeveloped into luxury housing for those who have the money to make Hackney their home.
My thoughts are with my street friends who have no place to call home due to life circumstances such as a loss of a job, health issues and domestic violence. Meanwhile there are thousands of buildings that remain empty as those with power such as the police, bailiffs, developers, politicians keep them at bay.
I look forward to the day coming where there will be no more borders or states where people regardless of who they might be will be able to make home wherever they desire. That will be the day when love will be made complete and find its home.

Friday, 23 December 2016

No 23

By Anne

My house is inspired by a beach hut: brightly coloured, often left unused in the winter and, in some places, costing as much as a house can cost elsewhere. It's colours are not weather proof: a reminder of the transient nature of much of what we spend our money on.

Thursday, 22 December 2016

No 22

By Rebekah

My house is inspired by the story of Snow White and the 7 Dwarfs: the dwarfs took the stranger (Snow White) in and gave her sanctuary. You can see the dwarfs hats along the side of the roof as well as a picture of the apple that was almost Snow White's downfall. It's pictured here with the Magi approaching, so maybe it might also be Babushka's house!

With apologies to Rebekah for the terrible photos of her lovely box

Wednesday, 21 December 2016

No 21

By Kaspar

I made it into a stable. I was thinking about making a shelter for homeless people then I thought I could make the shelter for Jesus. I cut a star to show the star above the stable in Bethlehem.

Tuesday, 20 December 2016

No 20

By Annabelle

Recently we got a new front door. After the paint had dried two brass numbers were firmly affixed - 33.
The number on our door is more than just an address, it is short hand for 'home'.
Come over to number 33, we're at 33, it's all happening at 33.
This got me thinking about other numbers too....
Numbers that have represented home to me. 187.
Numbers that resonate with meaning. Number 10.
And numbers that represent so much but seem to mean so little.
6437 homeless people in London.
340 children drowned trying to come to Europe.
7,467,774,68 people in the world.
140,000 hairs on my head.
Advent is a time for counting the days, but as I try to find the tiny numbers on our Advent Calendar every day I am trying to remember the other numbers.
Numbers that are so easy to say and so difficult to comprehend. 

Monday, 19 December 2016

No 19

By Paula

When faced with this year’s advent challenge of doing ‘something’ to a sweet little birdhouse I was, understandably, stumped. Inspiration wasn’t forthcoming. The idea of being inspired by home and, more importantly, the lack thereof left me feeling overwhelmed. How could I garner any sort of usable idea that captured the essence of home amidst a time when the word home is such a loaded phrase?

Home to me is simple albeit geographically complicated – it’s the place my husband and son are. It’s also across the Irish Sea where my mum is and it’s across the bigger pond where my husband’s family are. My son has the luxury of saying he has three homes; something he (rightly) takes great pride in.

Like so many, our little family of three has woven its own tapestry of life. And it was this tapestry that finally nudged me in the direction of inspiration. Less of a solution to society’s deepest displacement issues and more of a celebration of life and people everywhere who weave their tapestry and tell their story.

Those who find themselves without a home or escaping their country are no different to us and yet the attitude is often one that sets us apart as different, as better or worse but it's this tapestry that doesn't set us apart - it binds us and we must remember that, always.