I recently started making a project about myself and the jewelry she made at that time. I started to write my thoughts on this matter, but it turned out poorly. The feeling of fear and tension prevented us from addressing this topic completely.

One day I spent the night in an apartment that I had recently moved into. And at two o’clock in the morning I woke up from the frenzied scream of the intercom. With trembling hands, I put on a T-shirt that was hanging on the chair at the head of the bed. Barefoot, i walked up to the door, googling “the intercom is ringing at night, what to do”, and the phone numbers of the police and people living in my house.

The next day someone started calling again. I didn’t pick up the phone and started looking through the peephole. A couple of minutes later, a courier came to the door with a huge delivery bag. I opened the door. It turned out that he had mixed up the house. This was the culmination, I realized that this was no longer possible.I decided to make a project about what concerns me most. About what doesn’t allow me to live and sleep in peace.

About fear, about panic, about pain.