Do you remember that moment, when you felt a connection with your roots? Mine are of a wandering kind, spread around the whole Eurasian mass. A couple of years ago I passed through Siberia, on a Trans-Siberian railway. More than a hundred of years ago, my ancestors came there to stay.
"A train speeds through nine thousand kilometers of snow, pine, and withered grass. Rooks, houses, empty fields – day by day I watch them crumble and disappear into the night, on the other side of the window. Hours shift steadily one notch further until the notion of night and day becomes irrelevant. On the fifth day the rhythms of my life stop matchıng the rhythms of the life outside. I sleep through the day and my eyes are open long after midnight, as I lie on my bunk, staring into the window. There is a piece of moon gliding to and fro in the sky, staring back at me." Read more