While exploring the borders of the photographic, I couldn’t but face the question of my own borders. Those which differentiate me from the rest of the world. Those which make me separate individuality with its own feelings,emotions, thoughts and perceptions. Those which divide the conscious from the unconscious. Where are these borders? From which moment on my being ends and starts everything else which I could name real. How objective reality could be if I believe only to my eyes which are fated to glide just over the surface? It’s so difficult, and so necessary to find and cross along the nearest border to me – that of myself. By reaching this border I realize that it opens a road to inside, which is also a road to outside. Road, which leads to expansion of the borders. Road, which leads to knowledge. Road, which is equal of freedom.
Works part of the group exhibition "Boundaries of photographic"
While exploring the borders of the photographic, I couldn’t but face the question of my own borders. Those which differentiate me from the rest of the world. Those which make me separate individuality with its own feelings,emotions, thoughts and perceptions. Those which divide the conscious from the unconscious. Where are these borders? From which moment on my being ends and starts everything else which I could name real. How objective reality could be if I believe only to my eyes which are fated to glide just over the surface? It’s so difficult, and so necessary to find and cross along the nearest border to me – that of myself. By reaching this border I realize that it opens a road to inside, which is also a road to outside. Road, which leads to expansion of the borders. Road, which leads to knowledge. Road, which is equal of freedom.