To explore a new life in which travel is unsafe or impossible at all, I came up with a new device — a skyposcope. In quarantine spring, I made my way in self-isolation around the world and examined how the prisoners of the “corona” look like and what they see in the lenses of their windows.
Images on the screen of my computer were captured on film so that the new world would fall into the old one — there where even the Internet did not yet exist. The virus makes constant changes. The new world is fluid and therefore unclear, just like these images.
My screen has seen America, England, Australia, France, Spain, Italy, Germany, Georgia, Ukraine, India, Iran, Brazil, Indonesia, Japan. The virus enters personal spaces without asking. So did I, completely relying on luck and chance. If the virus can be anywhere, I will be, too.
I will look at a surface covered with a thin layer of dust. In the two-dimensional space of digital distortions, noise, clouds of pixels, where everything moves, breathes, pulsates along with me. And there is no end to this. It is only the film that ends in my skyposcope.