My home is my castle, isn´t it… About my house sculptures

My home is my castle.

This says a lot about what our home, our house is standing for.

House, for most of us this is a synonym for security, for feeling safe and protected. The place where we can feel relaxed and at ease.

So what happens if this feelings are put into question? What when the very foundations of our homes are at risk, like in my little hommage to Goethe “My peace has gone”?

Wolfgang Sandt, Garden of Poetry

My home is my castle. But what happens if my home´s very foundations are shattered?

 

What happens when the house of our soul has no entrance or exit, only a small window allowing us to have only a limited view of the world outside, like in “The house of the soul (for Guido Pompilj) ” ?

 

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