This is a photograph of my sister. I was a little kid then, as she was too.
In the meanwhile my hair turned grey, and we have grown distant to each other.
Not art but memory. The movement of time engraved into one image.
Innocence, the future still to come, and now that we look at this document of a past moment in our life,
we might realize that the future we were dreaming of in very vague terms never has arrived at our doorstep,
and that the dreams we had then, they were the innocent dreams of our youth,
and now our youth is gone, and our dreams are gone, and doors are closed by an invisible hand.
This website uses cookies so that we can provide you with the best user experience possible. Cookie information is stored in your browser and performs functions such as recognising you when you return to our website and helping our team to understand which sections of the website you find most interesting and useful.
Strictly Necessary Cookies
Strictly Necessary Cookie should be enabled at all times so that we can save your preferences for cookie settings.
If you disable this cookie, we will not be able to save your preferences. This means that every time you visit this website you will need to enable or disable cookies again.