"I wish there were stable, immobile, intangible, never touched and almost untouchable, immutable, rooted places: places that would be points of reference and departure, sources: my hometown, the cradle of my family, the house where I would be born, the tree that I would have seen grow (that my father would have planted the day of my birth), the attic of my childhood full of intact memories ... Such places do not exist, and it is because there is no space that becomes problematic, ceases to being evidence ceases to be incorporated, ceases to be appropriate. Space is a doubt: I must continually identify it, designate it. It is never mine, never given to me, I must conquer it. My spaces are fragile: time will consume them, destroy them: nothing will resemble what it used to be, my memories will betray me, oblivion will infiltrate my memory, I will look without recognizing some yellowed photos from the completely torn edge. There will no longer be the writing in white porcelain letters glued in an arc on the window of the small café in rue Coquillière: "Here you can consult the telephone book" and "Snacks at all hours". As the sand flows between the fingers, so it melts the space. Time takes him away with him and he leaves me nothing to tell. Writing: try meticulously to hold something back, to make something survive: to snatch a few crumbs from the void you dig, to leave, somewhere, a groove, a trace, a mark or some sign ".

Starting from this quote from Perec, I have identified the signs that we have left at our house - on our planet and outside it - trying to understand what "home" is for us.
so which signs do you want to leave?

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