Crushed between reality and what lies beyond it, between refuge and your own undoing. Floating eyes watch over you, as if they know something about you that you can no longer remember. At the edge of vulnerability and transformation, you slowly become something else. Fragments of my memory intertwine in the roots of nature — in branches, in water, in the eyes of birds. Colors reveal secrets whose meanings remain unknown. But who remembers you when you have forgotten where you came from? Memory is still awake. It knows where you came from, even if the way back has been lost in the flames.