2018 — ongoing
When I look at my parents' old photos made before I was born, I see a happy and respectable family, but I can’t escape the feeling that it’s not the family I had in my childhood.
My father was addicted to alcohol. He drank non-stop for weeks on end. We had a relatively quiet life only when he was sober. Mom made every effort to control my father and absolutely everything happening in the house; she had to be strong. She was composed and thoughtful as if constantly contemplating how to solve all the problems that had come her way. She controlled every step of the family members because it helped her to cope with her concerns.
I have very few happy reminiscences of the family. Nearly always the atmosphere at home was tense. I visit my parents more and more seldom, but every time I come I revise photos from the family archive. It’s a pleasure for me to see my family like this — young, active, joyful. I want to be with that family. Then, now and always.
I found the way to make it possible — using imagination and making collages from our old photos, I create myself a new memory of my childhood, make up everything from scratch, and become a part of that happy family from the photos. Because everyone has the right for a happy past.