Our bodies grow to fit in the places we fall in love with; the same way they do with people. Gestures are developed on the defining parameters of space and object — you can turn on a lamp in the dark without a second thought if you have learned where the switch is. These are images of our familiars, some taken thousands of miles apart, but have come together to meet in this space — islands to be visited one after the other in an instant. Find grapes on your passenger seat, toys in the garden, shoes by the front door, or pegs on an empty washing line. Stand on your rooftop at dusk or sit on the kitchen counter at dawn, in a matter of minutes.

Here, walls are simply articles of division. Noticing how long someone keeps hold of you during a moment of embrace, or naturally occurring patterns in familiar spaces, are tokens of what it really means to be at home. Through the thirty photographs present here today, we explore how we carry all of these experiences with us, wherever we are.