There Is Only the Forest
On the commuter train, the narrator notices passengers who board at the same platform. Watching these strangers gradually breaks the monotony of his journey to work
This is where my father, Yuri Nevsky, speaks. His stories come from another time, yet they run through me like the same underground river. He shapes life into words; I shape it into cities, interfaces, and a path of my own. Between us lie years, different temperaments, and separate roads. Yet the voice is one — Nevsky, passed from one generation to the next
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Time to buy black rings
“In the endless winter, the bracelets wrapped around the wrists…” Beyond the Barguzinsky tract, time froze in “zero transportation.” Confession of a watchman of an abandoned dacha, where reality disintegrates along the lines of Malevich, and only the warmth of freshly chopped firewood can save
Preface to Measuring the Wide World on Foot
Yuri Nevsky on his father Vladimir, the making of his book and the preservation of Buryatia’s hiking heritage
@nevsky_alexander
On Instagram: Dubai beyond the postcard — family, the city, discoveries and life between projects. On Threads: thinking out loud about design and AI. On YouTube: videos that need more room than a story. Follow me wherever you feel at home, and let’s keep in touch