For almost a year, this project slowly transformed alongside me. What began as something completely different gradually evolved through experimentation, failure, rebuilding, and reflection.
In the beginning, I was extremely ambitious. I wanted to create a large open-world VR experience something close to a game, filled with environments, exploration, and narrative fragments. But the world I was building became so large that I completely lost myself in it. Instead of shaping the project, it started to overwhelm me.

Only three weeks before my prototype needed to be finished and exhibited at the Eye Filmmuseum did the first real version of my final concept begin to emerge.
Although the prototype exhibition went well, I knew the project was still far from finished. It mostly showed the bare bones of the idea and lacked the emotional depth and atmosphere I was searching for. After the exhibition, I made the difficult decision to start over again.
That process was harder than I expected. I had already been working on the project for such a long time that I struggled to find a clear starting point anymore. I researched technical workflows, experimented with environments and interaction, and wrote fragments of text and narrative ideas, but everything felt disconnected loose pieces without a cohesive whole.
For a while, it felt like I had hit a wall creatively. Eventually, through conversations, feedback, and advice from others, things slowly started to shift back into perspective. Combined with the pressure of approaching deadlines, I found motivation again and became more focused on what the project was truly about.

Over time, the project slowly transformed from a technically ambitious VR world into something far more personal and atmospheric. Books, fragmented stories, sound, and immersive environments became central inspirations. Instead of creating a direct narrative, I wanted to build a world that feels discovered rather than explained intimate, unsettling, and reflective at the same time.
In the end, the narration and story itself became a much bigger part of the experience than the idea of creating a large, impressive interactive world. The project developed a more complex undertone more personal, less technical. Rather than focusing purely on spectacle or interaction, I became interested in exploring emotion, memory, obsession, and the lingering feeling fictional spaces can leave behind long after we leave them.