We most often connect the notion of home with an atmosphere of domesticity. We often say that a home reveals the real identity of the indweller. These idealistic notions imply that the home is understood as the basic entity that is capable of providing an insight into the hidden characteristics of the inhabitant. However, there is nothing further away from that ideal image than the home itself. There is nothing more empty and more insignificant than the domestic atmosphere itself: isn’t it true that the domestic atmosphere is just there where the most important things sink into silence? Or as Stefan Hertmans says: isn’t the home an exclusively neutral space, where we can be totally by ourselves since we actually are not somewhere but are nowhere? Isn’t the home the kind of space where things and people can hide behind the apparently domestic atmosphere?