Found sight, meditative document. We often came to Tahi, to that plot where there was only a wooden house back then. We called the house the same as the village — Tahi.

By that time, nature had already grown over it. Behind the couch, a large poster of mountains and sunshine. The house was no longer entirely level; the doors would sometimes move on their own. In the bathroom, water-blue tiles, soft yet warm lights. No matter how hot it was outside, inside, we were always greeted by a gentle coolness, as if even that sensation of temperature was a memory. A quiet peace from another time lingered there. That wooden house was a small, hidden institution of preservation, now replaced by another house — the one we still live in today.  This video is an important memory for me. A soft and gentle secret. Contemplation brings a kind of joy when it turns into silence.