Come Home is a riso-printed publication about the way home can stop being a place and start becoming a person. The book is built around my relationship with my mom, using letters she wrote to me during my freshman year and text messages from across our everyday life. Her voice and mine keep touching, overlapping, interrupting each other, and turning into a kind of emotional map.
I was interested in how distance changes the texture of care. A message can be tiny and still carry a whole room inside it. A letter can feel casual until you read it later and realize it has been holding you the entire time. The project treats those ordinary forms of communication as evidence: proof of missing, proof of checking in, proof of a relationship that keeps finding new ways to arrive.
The design uses riso printing, vellum, warm pinks, and orange tones to make the book feel like memory before it becomes clean. Images and type show through each other. Pages feel layered, soft, and slightly unstable, like a scrapbook, a receipt, a soft argument, and a way of saying I miss you without making it too neat.
Come Home is sentimental, but it is not trying to be perfect. It sits inside the awkwardness of needing someone, growing up, leaving, returning, and realizing that home can be both the thing you are moving away from and the thing you keep carrying around with you.
