Mikhail Karalashan

A country of ghosts, a city of shadows - shadows of someone’s memories, someone’s hopes and dreams. In the morning the fog drops, hiding the essence of the space around.And in an hour, three, five, cool shades of gray will hide behind a rich palette of color overflows, which, like people, blended in one plane of time and place. Here the eternalmorning, and the future, it seems, is no more than 100 feet away.