You had to think about every option when you had to make a decision.


To come back home is one of these options. But the meaning of ‘home’ evolved and changed a lot for me.


For a long time, it was Reunion island, my place of birth, my childhood and my youth. My weather, my landscape and my creative world.


Then, living more in Paris than in Reunion island, it languished a little bit. I was sharing less everyday life events, I didn’t take this train over there anymore.


But could I say I was ‘home’ in Paris?


Then Australia. I’m here ‘home’ with my family but my Reunionese and Parisian ‘homes’ are still alive. Because in Paris, I had (have) refuges : places and people. In Reunion island, places but it’s going beyond it. It’s more a question of waves.


Yeah, sure, I should say ‘home’ is in my heart, in my head and whatever.


In fact, when I’m really thinking about it, what is ‘home’ for me is to cook and to eat. Especially to cook for my friends! What a stomach on legs!

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