Red
You say red?
Yes!
Why is that? You really are red!
Yes!
I am.
I’ve got it.
We all have it.
What?
The blood of our ancestors…

Image one: My Father

Both his parents were Ukrainians. They came from Uzhhorod, Kolochava…
My grandfather came to Czechoslovakia as a partisan with Ludvik Svoboda and he stayed here. Over there, they were destitute.
But my dad only lived in Ukraine as a little child, and he doesn’t remember much about it.
After that, he never again returned …
But his blood is as red as that of his parents Michal and Helena, who spoke in a beautiful
“Czechoslovak” during my childhood, which I liked so much.
There’s something of them in me, that peculiar accent, the strange accent that skipped a generation and landed on me.
It lives in me.

A Feeling
I want to scream while others are silent.
I want to celebrate and host others, but the others are lukewarm.
I want to dance on the table, but it isn’t appropriate here.
I want and need to be alone sometimes to understand myself.
Inner waves. An internal storm. Up and down, like at sea.
I feel different, don’t even know why.
The child just senses, doesn’t understand the context.
She takes care of other things as an adult.
As a Mother she takes care of her children …
Then the time comes,
I meet a woman who invites me to work in Ukraine,
unaware that I have something in common with Ukraine.
The Fate.

Image two: My Sister

We both once dreamt of going to Ukraine. Then our children were born, and the plan was moved out of the immediate prospect. I consider my relationship with my sister to be special. I give a big credit for that to our mum, who raised us to stick together.
We’re pulling together, no matter what.

Image three: Myself

My self-portraits are organised into a Triptych. My six-year-old daughter pressed the shutter to take them; I love these connections so much. My substantive sinking into the movement in the shots, tossing and sparking of the fire long-burning in me. It is a process.
Am I depicting myself here in the yet unborn ignorance of my relation to Ukraine?
So far, I am guided just by my inner feelings.
I have yet a long way to go to Ukraine. My journey was interrupted by Covid.

My heart is connected,
entwined with each
previous connection,
in every steady direction.
I’m only very slowly,
moving on to the stream,
which “god” wrote on the wall,
I’m forgiving them all.

Image four: My children

They keep their whole world in their bedroom. We are in their hearts, and they are in ours. They are an image of ourselves.
Our mirroring in space and time. They develop, they grow, and while our roots slowly spread deeper into the ground, their branches only begin to grow.
It is us all over again.

All photos were taken in the environment of my family’s home in 2019-2021