Lidia Nikonova

Labyrinths of Barbès smelled like fruits and petrol. Thick summer air is so heavy you could punch it, and the hand would hurt. You wouldn’t be able to shoot a hole in it even with a gun. Time is like burnt rubber, like old tires, it stretches but it seems like nobody knows what to do with it. Streets are busy, parks are buzzing, but this motion is only a fictional one – it hides the space of paused temporalities, and the younger inhabitants of this space suffocate with boredom. Following some of them during the workshop, I went on a journey I haven’t anticipated. It challenged everything in me, it tested my mental endurance, it became a personal journey which made me a different photographer.