Source of power
I often think about my grandfather, who I have never met. He was hit by a train when he was walking drunk to the dacha. Grandmother remained a widow and never married again. My mother was growing up without father from the age of 13, and I'm still crossing railway tracks with caution. Grandmother gave all her care and love to mom, and then to me.
She looks forward to every spring, begins to plant seedlings, thinks over a planting plan. The earth and plants are her source of strength. In her youth, working at the Institute of Agriculture she was given piece of land which she lovingly cultivates. the most part of her life, mother's and my childhood passed in this place .
Walking around this place, I try to immerse myself into memories, but everything has changed: nature, neighbors, buildings. There is no longer a house built by my grandfather. I am in search of images, trying to put together childhood memories, the atmosphere of this place and at the same time tell a little story of my family. Through photography, I explore space, people and the past. This is an attempt to take a picture what is not visible, but what I want to keep.