Photo series, artist book, 2024
15/8 – the address of the apartment where I grew up. My parents recently moved to a neighboring village due to the threat of shelling, and now it stands empty. It’s strange to return to a home where the dog no longer jumps with joy to greet you, where the yard is overgrown with grass up to your chest, where the cupboards are empty and there’s no refrigerator, where there’s no point in waiting for your parents to come home from work. Time passes differently here.
