It’s the sensation of falling, as if you have stumbled over the edge of time and suddenly plunged into a fissure of fractured hours. A sense of landscapes already seen, and it’s as if you can hear the echo of emotions once lived. And then this echo catches up to you in real time, and you find yourself back in the present. In my own words, nostalgia is the feeling of a future already lived, preserved in the memory of the past, and unexpectedly relived in the present.

I am intrigued by this feeling of déjà vu , the thrill of mythological time — that time which has come to a halt in our archetypal consciousness, yet continues to exist in the present. Like a soul roaming amongst bodies, the mythological coil of time wraps itself around the hands of a clock. To me, nostalgia is a physical experience where one may briefly relive the time of myths.

In nostalgic experiences, there is a sense of being transported to a world where a second feels like hours. A world where everything thrives in everlasting and evergreen stalemate.

Resemblance, monotony, routine—they follow me everywhere. The endless loop of the clock hand, the snake biting its own tail, and I — a future offering to the roots of the World Tree. In such moments, an invitation emerges; a call to embark on a mythological journey, a return to the timeless echoes of great ancestors. For Don Quixote, such a guide was the dull world of the landowner and the animated chivalric romances. For me, it is the bureaucratic world and the relentless march of technological progress, which has reshaped my knightly sword into a 35mm lens.

Through this lens, I pierce the fabric of my everyday life. A quantum fragment of the world freezes on the film, creating a new, unique universe — a universe where time stands still, a universe of myth. And like those windmills that transformed into giants, the road ahead leads to wonders. Great Time is revived in reverse; life is infused with ether. Once again, it becomes possible to live poised on the edge of modernity and Eternal Time, treading the fine line between the fleeting present and the infinite.