New Collection - 'A Little Piece of Home'
- Susan Nelson
- May 26
- 2 min read
Updated: May 30
A Little Piece of Home: When Place and Memory Matter
There’s a quiet kind of power in the places that make us — in the bends of a familiar road, the shape of the skyline just before dusk, the rhythm of footsteps along a path we’ve walked a hundred times before. These are not just landscapes. They are keepers of our memories.

That’s the heart of my Little Piece of Home collection, a series of photographs of Cork, my home, and beyond captured not just for how it looks, but for how it feels. Because where we’re from shapes who we are. Not always loudly, but deeply. In ways we don’t always see until we leave, or until something changes. Maybe it’s the street you walked every day to school, or the place where you met someone who changed your life. Maybe it’s the view you didn’t know you missed until you saw it again, years later, framed on someone’s wall.

At first, I photographed Cork simply because I love it, the light, the colour, the way it can surprise you even on the most ordinary days. But soon, something more began to emerge. People reached out with their stories. A father and daughter who spent lockdown Saturdays walking the Marina. Someone living in America for many years who was overjoyed with seeing Fitzgerald’s Park, just as they remembered it when playing with their brothers and sister's many years ago. A bridge — "our bridge" — they called it, the one that meant they were nearly home.

These moments aren’t mine alone. They belong to all of us, small, intimate stories stitched into the fabric of this place. That’s what Little Piece of Home is about. Not just capturing what Cork looks like, but what it means. It’s about giving people that moment of connection, a pause in a busy life, a glance that brings you back to who you were, where you were, and maybe even who you still are deep down.

In a world that’s always pulling us forward, there’s comfort in looking back. Not in nostalgia for the sake of it, but in remembering the things that made us: the places that witnessed our growing up, our falling in love, our making sense of the world.

It’s a quiet joy, really, the kind that sneaks up on you. You see a photo, and suddenly, you’re there again. The smell of the sea, the crunch of gravel underfoot, the laughter, the light.
Sometimes all it takes is a glimpse. And just like that, you’re home.
Check out my collection of beautiful fine art prints
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