might be called a project or a one-man-band or maybe an over-all work
of art. One is often tempted to attach importance to something, to
take it more or less serious and therefore stick it
a certain direction. Thereby it is often neglected that through this a
part of possibilities are deprived which lies in the thing itself. Let's
leave Prypjat as unsorted and only give it space and liberties to develop
from itself. Perhaps like this small town
near the destroyed reactor IV which inavitably had been turned adrift
and changed into something different,
maybe even more significant, than ever planned or foreseen.
The perdition, the decay and the disaster, which are not limited to this
small Town, but empitomized so perfectly, is always likewise the beginning
of something new, different. It doesn't concede its right to exist just
as it cares about its meaning and category. What
seems as dead land and lost hope from afar, at close range turns out to
be something that, even though it seems unfamiliar or peculiar, is as
alive and self-inventing as life on this planet is from time immemorial.
At night wolves can be heard, in the dusty streets of Prypjat.