I left my country and I got lost – in the midst of the civil war in the Donbass. I shooted photographs for weeks, made videos for my few followers.
But suddenly there was a voice. One at first, then a second, then ten, hundreds, thousands… They whispered, spoke, shouted – names of women, men and children. Names of victims of the non-existing war in the heart of coal and steel of former Ukraine. And among those names my name was whispered, spoken, shouted – by people who cared. One who cares is Vera Graziadei in London. She found me in the dark and bloody chaos in Eastern Ukraine and gave me a present: Her outstanding blogpost.
Thank you, Vera.