Mnemosyne (2026)

What defines a landscape? Is it a shape of longing? Poised at the cliff’s edge, I gaze upon the peaks ahead. The urge to claim it drives my finger to the camera’s trigger… No. That falls short. I stretch my hand into the scene. And from the mountains and valleys, blood begins to flow. I wonder: Is this a deceitful vision? What is a landscape? A ghost woven from memory and fantasy? I ask again: What secret did the landscape breathe into your eye? How far does its truth stretch? Does it belong to the here and now—or to a lost moment in the past, or even one yet to come?