I’ve always known that I have Jewish blood in me. It was an important part of my identity, but I never had a real experience of traditional Jewish life. It was, instead, an uneven flickering image, my experience was something overflowing in my blood and whispering and prompting life choices 
and I tried to grasp it, to see, but it always slipped away.

As I grew older, I became more and more interested in my family history. Looking at my family through the prism of the history of Jewry in the Soviet Union, I realized that I could only speak truthfully about generations of hidden and traumatic experiences. About the reasons and methods of concealment. In the process of exposing secrets, through 
the reconstruction of experience, I have been getting to know myself anew and gaining a voice.

These ideas are built on the flicker of identity.

Flickering can be viewed in two ways: on the one hand, it seems that there is a certain continuity of movement as a subject is being formed through a dynamic process. On the other hand, the formation of this subject is intermittent because we catch moments of absence. There is a gap because the old subject is already missing, and the new one is not yet present.

What is this moment? Let the observer think.