I don't know where I am.
There is nothing around except the sky and the dug soil. Where do I go among the infinity of destinations?
I don't know how I got here.
Did I leave home to enter the road? Or am I on the road in search of home?
I don't know what is going to happen to me.
Will I be going, or will I come somewhere, or fall dead. I hold my flag tightly in my hand.
I know nothing.
Except that when I get tired of going I will stop and rise my flag above the horizon, above the sky and ground.
I will know then that now these are my sky and my ground, and it is my home, because I brought it with me.
And wherever I go I will carry it with me. The flag will fly, along with the infinity of destinations.
I still won't know where I am. But I will always be home.
This is an ongoing project. I am traveling with my flag to different places as a nomad, bringing my feeling of home
to anywhere on the Earth.