My house in the air
2019
Performance with a flying house

In My House in the Air, I walk barefoot through Paris while holding a light, transparent inflatable house above my head. With its iridescent surface, the house appears almost weightless, unable to land or be fully inhabited. It hovers like a vision that could disappear at any moment. The floor of the house is printed with the receipt for my French residence permit application. In administrative reality, this document functions as proof of legal existence. Without it, a person can become invisible, unrecognized, or unaccounted for by society. A fragile piece of paper is expected to guarantee identity, yet it remains temporary, conditional, and always at risk of losing its validity. The house I carry is literally built upon this provisional proof of existence. As I move through public space, what should protect the body instead exposes its vulnerability. The house offers the image of shelter, but no possibility of dwelling. My gaze remains fixed on the floating structure above me, while my barefoot body becomes the only thing anchoring it to the city. The house can neither settle on the ground nor become a stable home. It becomes a paradoxical architecture: a dreamed refuge, a legal fiction, and an unstable structure shaped by migration, bureaucracy, desire, and conditional belonging.