2025
“Charoite Land, Land of Death” — death surrounds us. It is in the war, it is in the everyday, it is here and now. At times, it is overwhelming — we drown in grief and loss. And yet, sometimes, death brings calm and silence. No one will ever unravel the mystery of death, but it lives beside us. This series explores the state of in-between — between what was and what is yet to come. There is a spirit of emptiness here, but not one of despair. It is a space of stillness, where souls meet and final words dissolve. This is a land without time, yet filled with presence.
It so happened that since 2022, we have been surrounded by death everywhere.
We count the flags in cemeteries — that is death.
It is the death of our defenders.
We count the missing — that too is death.
It is the death of our people.
We count the number of bombs and rockets flying toward us.
And again — it is death.
The death of civilians.
Every day, death surrounds us.
An unnatural death — the kind that should not exist, yet it does.
It becomes ordinary.
It ceases to be sacred, mysterious, terrifying.
Death becomes just another form of life.
We grow used to it — and that is the most frightening thing.
In 2023, my grandmother and grandfather died.
They left quickly, burned out within a month.
Another death on the map of land sown with pain.
Another point of loss on the Charaeite Land.
But death began earlier —
back when my village was occupied,
then de-occupied,
and finally turned into a vast ruin.
The death of people overlaps with the death of the land.
The death of villages, of fields, of cities.
The death of nature that witnessed all of this in silence.
Everything is gradually turning into the Charaeite Land.
