LENINSK  

Visual essay

2006 - continues 

Late may, early morning, grandma and I load into grandpa's 408th Moskvich and drive to the village to the dacha. I sit in the back seat and read `Gone with the Wind`. Grandpa drives slowly, grandma jokes about it, I feel the rough fabric of the seat and the smell of gasoline, I feel warm and calm. For three summer months I will sleep until lunch, play, read, watch my grandpa listen to the radio, ride a bike and walk in the evenings  

Since then, a lot of shit has happened to me and I can't shoot the village the way I want. But I don't give up trying