Photos relating things seen and done during a two-week residency in the tiny Ukrainian town of Shargorod, near the Moldavian frontier.

All that was asked of me during my residency at Shargorod was to leave a work for the future museum. My stay was drawing to a close and I was still groping for something to leave behind that made sense with regards to the experience and the place as a whole.
A friendship of sorts had established itself between myself and the security agents on the site, based perhpas on a tacit recognition of our respective missions and the similar techniques employed. They were there to defend the art i was there to make and we all spent much of our time walking around in circles pausing every now and then to have a smoke. Each agent had his dog and each dog its doghouse.  The agents took their work seriously and seemed happy about the museum to come. After all, it did seem to guarantee them a relatively prestigious and well-paid job. I was absorbed by Kafka’s Investigations of a Dog, so well did this story seem to capture the Shargorod vibe: everybody seemed to be waiting for soemthing without knowing what, really.
Better days still to come?
A miracle?
The end?
We might as well wait fro the flying dog. We might as well be prepared.