Schools Open Call: What is Home to you?

To me, home is more than a physical place. It is the peace and belonging I feel through remembering Allah. Using Arabic calligraphy, this painting presents the Qur’anic verse: “Remember Me; I will remember you. Be grateful to Me and do not deny Me” (2:152).

The blue represents peace, while the red represents warmth and love. Together, they show how faith, remembrance and gratitude give me a sense of home wherever I am.

Home is not only a physical place. It can also exist as memory, emotion, and a sense of belonging that remains with us across time and distance.

These photographs reflect on shared human experiences rooted in childhood, family gatherings, and moments of togetherness. Through a familiar cultural symbol, the works explore how memories can transcend geography, language, and borders, connecting people through common feelings of comfort, recognition, and connection.

For me, home is found not only where we come from, but in the emotions and memories we carry with us, and in the moments that remind us of our shared humanity.

Home is not a place. Sometimes, it is a quiet path we feel connected to, even in the middle of the unknown.

After my grandmother passed away, the house remained exactly the same. The same walls, the same room, and the same morning light entering through the window every day. Yet everything felt completely different. There was a strange silence, an emptiness impossible to describe, even though nothing had physically changed.

This is my grandmother’s real chair—the place where she used to sit every day, filling the house with warmth, kindness, and comfort. Today, her chair remains in the same corner, holding her cushion, her prayer beads, and her warm shawl, as if the space itself is still preserving her presence. Since her passing, the chair has become one of the quietest things in the house. It does not feel empty because no one sits there anymore, but because it misses the warmth she gave to everything around her.

After losing her, I realised something I had never understood before: my grandmother was not simply someone who lived in the house. She was the house itself. She was its spirit, its warmth, its comfort, and the light that gave life to its smallest details.

Sometimes, we shoulder the burden of our home, something that perhaps we don't have... like a homeless

child, a war-torn child... It's full of very heavy vacuum... That is why we dream of that home with its many

windows... always we search for it... and why it never lets go... beyond the dream always is a place.

Inspired by the slow, intimate rhythm of village life. The Tea & The Flowers is a reflection on nostalgia, human connection, cosy home, simple lifestyle and the quiet beauty of a time before the immediacy of modern communication. Through the symbolic gestures of a woman offering tea and a man presenting flowers, the artwork explores the relationship between two individuals without depicting them directly. Their presence is conveyed through familiar objects, traditional surroundings, and the unspoken language of everyday rituals. The work reflects on the philosophical idea of absence within presence: how people can remain deeply felt through memories, gestures, and the spaces they once occupied. In this sense, home becomes more than a physical place; it becomes a vessel for affection, longing, and the moments that continue to live within us.

Four women from different generations and cultures weave memory, identity, and heritage together. The pottery, colours, and textile patterns reflect Middle Eastern and Central Asian traditions. The white cloth symbolises a future woven from the threads of the past. The young woman with an instrument represents music, joy, and the universal language of art.