In order to realize my place in the world I turn around to my history.Sometimes the past looks more attractive than the present. When you look deeply through this rapidly changing consumption period, the past looks nostalgic and creates a desire to relive those times or at least to know the truth of them. On the other hand, the metamorphosis of history to a simple collection of objects scares me. Objects remain longer than their owners.There are a lot of objects and clues about my ancestors. This silent intimacy (ignorance) of my history scares me even more. I believe that objects are the keepers of their owners’ history.The clock has counted my ancestors’ time. There are two sides of the clock: a clock-face with arrows on which the time swings and there is another side of the clock- the one with mechanism. It’s a machine and nothing more. History is a past time. Time produces on that other side of the clock. I search for the hints of past in these objects. I paint them, that is how I create my own truth of history.