Image 1:

The imprint on the sand of the Curonian Spit, blown by the wind from the Baltic Sea, look like a message for someone. It’s unsigned, but you can guess who it’s from. I thought it was a letter for me, but I couldn’t read it.

Image 2:

A pink camouflage net that I wove in the first month of the full-scale invasion. It has blossomed with the arrival of spring and the wind sways it on thin branches.

Image 3:

The dance of reeds and wind on the banks of the Lugan River, in my native Luhansk. This photo was kept only because I sent a digital version of it to my mother.

Image 4:

A girl on her last days of school in May (maybe it was graduation). Maybe she still goes to music school, maybe to dance classes. That day she was walking with her parents, but I don’t remember what they looked like.

Image 5:

The wind from the Atlantic Ocean keeps you from overheating even on the hottest days. It also creates huge waves, but the ocean is so cold that you can only swim a couple of times a month.

Image 6-7:

Wind сatcher or experiments on growing red wings.

Image 8:

Accidentally found an old ruined church in a French town while searching for a location to shoot the work “The Sun Still Shone in My Room at 4:45 PM”.

Image 9:

A wind farm in Poland near the border with Ukraine. A long-awaited trip home after a year of studying abroad.

by Anastasiia Leliuk