Between mountains and borders, parallel lives continue, painfully similar, yet equally distant. I was born in the Golan Heights, a place where the border is not simply a line on a map, but a daily presence that shapes memory, longing, and family relationships. On the other side of the border, my family lives in Syria, geographically close, yet separated by a reality shaped by war, politics, and history. The same small habits, the same language, the same memories passed from one generation to another, and the same longing exist simultaneously on both sides. Through the works, I ask what happens to human relationships when distance is measured not in kilometres, but through political reality. The works move between documentation and imagination, between what can be seen and what remains absent. The border appears not only as a physical barrier, but as an invisible force operating alongside a profound sense of closeness, as though memory itself refuses separation.