
There’s a somethingness in me. A specific kind of somethingness that speaks of the place where I was born. The rabid mania of football fans dressed in red, making pilgrimages to see their beloved team every home game. The constant trickle of rain on the pavement, sliding between showers and storms against the backdrop of grey skies. The thrum of skyscrapers being built into infinity.
The symbology of worker bees, splashed across alleyways, offices and my own skin. The restless, dynamic spirit of a city that powered warehouses, cotton mills and commerce in the heydays of The Industrial Revolution. The energy of collaboration sparking between people from all walks of life. The energy of Northern Soul.
Growing up in Manchester, I’ve seen all these aspects converge and mingle. To describe all of this in one word, to convey all the emotions that are tied up with home isn’t easy. But a word that captures the essence of what I feel is the Japanese term furusato. Usually translated as ‘hometown’, furusato is more than just the place of where one is born. It’s a feeling of multiple meanings.
Continue reading “Heart Is Where The Home Is: The Roots Of Furusato”









