Some time ago, I have always been intrigued by shimmers in the dark, like those night insects that can not resist the attraction of a light source. In my childhood, summer evenings in the garden were always accompanied by fireflies. I would grab the flickering points of light and take them home, set them free behind closed door and spend hours in bed watching their dancing little lights. I’d even prepare food and water, hoping they would stay. Still, they were always gone the next day before sunrise. Despite endless tries, nothing changed. They never lingered for me. This feeling of regret is always present in my work. The pessimist in me discourages my attempts to grasp and hold on to those treasured things in life, believing instead that “all good things come to an end”. Even in the happiest of moments, the hint of melancholy caused by this desolate consciousness never absents. Everyone has a different view on photography. Moriyama Daido said: photography for me is about trying to celebrate those few captured fragments, while watching helplessly as millions more unceremoniously slip away. I couldn't agree more.