One day I was walking home from Osanovsky field and noticed dots moving in the distance. The human figures moved unnaturally fast, so I started watching them through the telephoto lens.
It was the skiers who were riding on the field.
Minimalism has manifested itself here, since there are no elements in the field, and human figures are very small in relation to the large-scale landscape.
This shoot seemed interesting visually, but for some reason I don't feel anything about it.
The whole scene turned blue due to an overhanging leaden cloud.
And it was already getting close to the blue hour.
There are such series of pictures when you like them immediately after shooting and then lose interest in them.
In the end, I love all my photos because I treat them as my story, as a diary of my life.
And I also perceive my pictures as something collectible, which also affects the attitude towards them.
I would to analyze this point again and consider it in more detail.
I like the series for its shades of blue, but it's too simple...
