Absurd World is the series where reality does its favorite trick: acting official and respectable… while quietly putting on a clown wig. This isn’t gallery-grade surrealism. It’s street-level comedy—those moments when the social script slips by a few millimeters and suddenly everything looks slightly misaligned. A sign that promises order in the middle of disorder. A posture that contradicts the face. A perfectly ordinary scene that, when you actually look at it, feels like a joke the universe told without checking if anyone was listening.

Working in black and white helps me “hear” the absurd with my eyes. Monochrome cuts the decorative noise and leaves the core: gesture, distance, coincidence, irony. In this series the main character isn’t the city or some grand narrative—it’s the small malfunction of normality, when the world starts resembling a parody of itself and everyone keeps walking like nothing happened. The absurd doesn’t shout; it just stands there beside you, politely refusing to make sense.