"We soothe ourselves by re-experiencing protected memories" - The Poetics of Space"

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  I tried to describe how I feel about home. For me, home seems to be wrapped and soft, but since I left home, it seems that I can't go back, as if there is a barrier. Maybe like a silkworm cocoons, wrapping itself in soft silk and tearing it apart, and then allowing itself to be reborn. It can't go back, it's soft, but you can't say it's useless. Whenever I look through the photos of my childhood, I always have mixed emotions. I think the photos are cute, but also feel a little sad. I tried making an empty ball of yarn that seemed to have a hard yet soft shell. I combined the photos from my childhood with the ball of yarn, it looks like my feeling about the house, I grow wantonly in this space full of memories.