We are looking for submissions that demonstrate an individual experience or expression of hiraeth, home, or migration.  Non-native English speakers are welcome and encouraged to submit.

We want to hear your story. How are you personally affected by migration? Is yours a story of love, personal growth, refuge, or adventure…? Does that mean all submissions have to be auto-biographical? No, of course not.

In one way or another, we are all migrants.  How can we judge others seeking the same things we all want, which in part is to feel secure.  We might be angry and tired of the current political climate, but we are not without hope. How about you? 

The idea of ‘hiraeth‘ is a human condition, and the idea of ‘home’ is the subject of many works of art. Home is more than just a shelter, it is a feeling, one that we can’t always explain.  It can even evolve and change as we grow.

You retain all copyrights to your work. This is a platform for creating dialogue and building community.  We are a team of volunteers and do not make a profit off any of this. The only term is that upon submission, you will be asked to subscribe to our newsletter.  Newsletter will only come out once or twice a year, informing you of upcoming events which may be of interest. If you have any other questions, please email us.   Click on the relevant link to submit:

Recent Posts

Jennifer Tee: Let It Come Down

Jennifer Tee is a Dutch artist with Chinese-Indonesian heritage. Her work incorporates many cultural traditions and beliefs, and utilising a range of crafts, she is able to merge culture and history with the present. “She is interested in researching contemporary...

Love and Longing at the Mexican Border

The Other Side- Love and Longing at the Mexican Border is a short documentary by Griselda San Martin, a documentary photographer and visual journalist. The Other Side - Trailer from Griselda San Martin on Vimeo. Every Saturday and Sunday, there is a section of the...

Turquoise Eyes

by Jeremy Keighley A Finnish girl with Turquoise eyes is the only journal entry I can remember from leaving England all those years ago. Brown, muddy river oil flats, fields drift away from us now. The boat takes me downstream, goodbye England beery toasts and photos,...