“Logs and slabs lying everywhere. Snow falls. Every morning, I drive a beat-up work truck twenty kilometers just to watch this same movie unfold. Sawdust. Ringing in my ears. Aching joints. Cars passing on the highway between Gatchina and Krasnoye Selo.Two months. Day after day, the exact same rhythm. Only the form shifts—it melts and carves away until, suddenly, I just know it’s finished.
I call a truck. And hang a 500-kilogram fairy on a fifth-floor wall”.
