Its as if neither I, nor Prague, existed in this passage of time. We both drifted through an emptiness, bouncing off one another at intervals. Prague in the winter, a more isolated, cold and tranquil telling of its summer self. Isolation playing a strong role, emptiness like a decoration on the desolate backdrop. I felt as if the winter tore away the new layers of the city and I was left face to face with remnants of its past. No specific structured goal in mind, and the language and reserved nature of potential subjects led to no leads. It seemed as if my winter self was just as empty as the city I temporarily inhabited. Leaving the touristic features and venturing into the lesser known, both in regards to the city and photographic approach. We seamlessly fitted into one an others preferences. And with this Prague still holds itself with a strong rooted regard in my mind, echoing in my thoughts, in a way thats not like anywhere else.