The House at the Foot of the Hill
On origin, nostalgia, and the infinite
When I was four years old, My grandparents and I moved from Ukraine to Belgium. Even after many years of living in Belgium, a sense of estrangement still lingers. But perhaps that feeling is not only because of the immigration.
This work is a way for me to process my experiences with identity and to share them with others.
“In the old days, a man was taught to forget himself. Today it is quite different: he is taught not to forget himself and he accordingly spends his days and nights in endless self-regard.
Who can possibly know peace in such an eternally burning hell? The apparent realities of this awful world, even the beast lines of being, are all symptoms of that sickness for which the only cure lies in learning to forget the self.”
― Natsume Sōseki, I Am a Cat
