We have continued to use colour as a tool to spark ideas and evoke memories. Over the last few weeks we have reflected on which colours represent our experiences of the places we call home, both here in Birmingham, and the diverse countries we come from.
There have been stories of great love and joy; and of deep pain and suffering. There have, always, been glimmers of hope.
The following poem is a collective creative effort, based on the memories we chose to share of the homes we left behind.
The Colour of Home
Sometimes we didn’t know the value of things until they are lost: In my family home, my breath was deep and soft. Coffee under a neem tree shadow, a warm family feeling surrounds me. There, where brown is common, we grow up with roots as steady as our pyramids. Wind blows from the past, urging us to keep on the right path. Love, bonded by blood, traditionally.
A rich culture, trapped inside the book of love by a lack of freedom …