Visual Art

I find myself daydreaming more and more often. Now that we're constantly on the road, I often feel like I'm in a morning haze, not noticing anything around me. But wherever I go, the smells bring me back - the smells of my mom, familiar perfumes, friends, childhood, girls. These places smell more and more like peat and diesel. But loving doesn't become more important. Remembering doesn't become more painful. Now that we're in the wild east, we all need to cling to something. What's performance art? In love, in memory, and in truth. My home is wherever I fall asleep tonight.