
11 years

A video runs with its mirror projection on the screen in an
empty room at the gallery.
Another trip.
Following the trees, and
gardens, through the sun…
The mirror effect, like
a kaleidoscope, pulls the voyage to an unknown inner center, to a light source.
Continuously and in slow
motion…
The road lies and lies
long… to another world, to the grave of my father, who I lost 11 years ago.
Or nothing happens.