My city loves to sleep. When it wakes, it resumes its rough everyday rhythm and doesn’t care about joy. Superficiality dominates everything related to true beauty. So I created my own city on the edge of the real city, taking as my point of view all the best I could snap, anything that could help the real city find a harmony. I called it Pretty Ghetto.
In my city, living blocks became a big and depressing organism that has grown for several generations. But their residents are younger in soul and body and stay children in their hearts forever. They read glossy magazines in childhood and imagined themselves their main images. Sometimes they want to be an object of desire, but they are not as available as it seems. Their weakness is bright and extravagant taste for clothes and cheerful, almost useless pastime. They are like chameleons colored to match the native landscape, praising themselves for being at one with it. Animals are their faithful companions. Whether it’s a toy, sculpture, drawing or a live puppy, they share with them the joy of life. Although Pretty Ghetto is a beautiful utopia, everyone from the Real city will be able to go there. And then go and come back again, the next time they’re frustrated by the greyness of life or the dullness of shattered dreams.