© Sila King 2015 // Built by Charlotte Hyland


I once heard that a person’s name suggest their future. While there is nothing scientific about this claim, I like to find examples that confirm the theory. Sila means homeland in Turkish. It is hard to translate directly, because it doesn’t just mean home. It suggests a home that is being missed. It is home you long for while you are away. I believe my name does justice to my story.

When I was about five, my parents went through an unamiable divorce, and shorty after, moved far away from each other. While it was a difficult transition, interestingly I don’t recall any memory of wishing my family back together. I saw the differences in them and believed that the separation was the best for all of us even at those early ages. I adapted to new situations, lived in many houses, but never determined where my home was. Luckily they were both very successful at showing their intensive love to me. Maybe thats why even though their disagreement with each other never fade away and I always stand right in between that chaos, the home blur was just a life style, not a problem. I just accepted the situation as I had many houses. Even today, many many miles away from what was once home, I am trying to answer the same questions. Trying to understand where I belong, or even more specifically, do I need to belong anywhere?

Now that I am preparing to be a parent, I am looking back at my past. I don’t judge or try to change anything, but simply want to understand. In this project, I am looking at the events and feelings that directly or sometimes indirectly tied to my family’s divorce. It is a fun exercise to think what my life would be if the divorce never happened? Who would I become? By making images that are inspired by personal memories, dreams and feelings I am trying to reconnect with my past to move forward.