IN SEARCH OF THE HOME
Often, we don’t feel at home even in the places we were born into.
Sometimes, we carry this silent absence inside us and don’t know where to begin looking.
Oneday I arrived in an apartment once owned by someone I never knew. He is gone, but everything — the furniture, wallpaper, mirrors — remains. And somehow, this space accepted me.
It is a series of visual notes through which I explore not only the world around me, but also my inner landscape. It’s a self-portrait, though not in the usual sense: instead of a mirror, there are ordinary rooms, old objects, quiet corners. I seem to dissolve into this space, and it brings a comforting sense of nostalgia — not through sight, but through the body, through memory, through warmth.
As if I'm returning to something I never realized I was missing — a childhood home, or simply the idea of safety.
This project speaks to anyone who’s ever felt unrooted, out of place, or quietly searching. It’s about vulnerability, perception. Home is not just a point on a map — it’s a point of peace within. And if, even for a brief moment, you can feel that — then perhaps, you’re already almost home.
Trip into Adulthood
The project captures moments of transition, when the body is no longer childlike, yet memory still clings to familiar symbols. Within it are irony, bodily awakening, fragments of the past, and an attempt to stay grounded in the present.
I explore how our perception of time changes: in childhood, it felt endless; now it rushes by like a speeding train that cannot be stopped. Adulthood is a painful farewell to toys and naivety — things that once acted as a shield from reality.
The hyperbolized and ironic images in this series are my way of preserving a fragile yet vital part of myself, so as not to get lost in the adult world.