To attempt to write a biography for Serge Tretiakov is like trying to document the life of a note, a soap bubble, the momentary green of a fire fly - unknowable, unexplainable, fleeting, strange, noble...

This unassuming man somehow pierced and lived out the shimmering mystery of what it might be to be human. He never told, for it cannot be told, but he played with light, reconstructing bits and pieces of the ecstatic carnival he'd discovered outside the seemingly opaque curtain of the seemingly plain reality.

And so a part child's play, a part life's work of a man compelled to communicate something profound, possibly urgent, these images might be a greeting for those who already know, a map for those wandering - momentarilly lost, an invitation to those teetering on the brink of an exploration and a reminder of the universe's infinite wonder to anyone willing to look and fortunate to see.

If you are curious to know about Serge just follow your eyes along the curves of his imagination, and perhaps somewhere along the way the boundary where his dreams end and yours begin will start to dissolve.

...To those still longing for a "coherent" string of facts - Serge was born in 1967 in Russia, died in 2003 in San Francisco, his own trajectory colliding with that of a city bus. In between there were big cities, isolated islands, cannabis, oceans, pain, love...