Homeless: not being, not belonging

You are not, you do not belong: to nothing, to nowhere. How do you survive exclusion? And loneliness? And not having a place, a home?

You keep going as if nothing happens and you take over a place: you put a bed, a table, a calendar, a clock, your clothes on the chair... you let your day to day to invade until the last corner and you try to make that "everyday will be (like) being at home, wherever you are."

You full of traces your life, traces with which we know about you.

Traces, tracks that take you away from the void where we have thrown you. Clues that define you and with which we can build these portraits. Portraits made of spaces and photographs without human presence so we can know of you and of us with the desire that, perhaps, we will understand something about that solitude and that constant search that the exclusion incorporates in who suffers it.