First, a story was written in which the main character lives through the moments of forgetting, overtaking him against his will. He clings to fragmentary scenes, but the corner of his garden and something supernatural happening there – are much more real than what the hero may consider his past. Then the story was translated into another language. The one that the main character could speak. It was the same story, but through unfamiliar words, it became unrecognizable to me.
Then the photographs were selected. First for the first book. Everything was taken from the archive of the cell-phone. Among hundreds of images, those were selected, which didn't emit the slightest familiarity: either they fell out of memory or caused an ominous feeling as if they were taken in unknown places by someone else. After that, photographs were selected for the second book: those that could have a formal resemblance, but, in principle, had no particular connection with the latter. The experience of reading both books - simultaneous or sequential - is the experience of listing and classifying the types of unrecognition.