As I board the train that carries me through the familiar landscapes - war loses its grip and my heart gets warm, again. That’s why I will board this train each time that I can.
This morning I know well thanks to whom I can.
These men have deep eyes.
While I draw the landscapes from the window of the train, one of them tells me - don’t sit on the floor, it’s cold, and it’s bad for your health. I stand up and gift him one of the drawings, he says - I am not a romantic, I don’t understand art, my job is different - I run with an automat (rifle). I reply calmly - I can do my job only thanks to you. He smiles. He shares some more - you know, some wounds don’t heal - and jumps out of the train.
Smoking brake, as the train stops in the fortress of Lubny [1].
I did a few drawings to gift to these men to express my gratitude for being able to be here, to see what I see, and to do what I do. The first drawing stayed with Serhiy from Odessa, who fatherly cared for my health. The second went to Mala Vyska.
Shahtar from Kirovohrad doesn’t know his name anymore. His nickname was given to him by his comrades, before knowing that he had previously worked in a Uranian mine for fifteen years.
A few moments later, we meet again.
We talk for what seems like a month. Now I know more about how the 0.0. looks like, what ++ means and that this new year he got an iPhone for his daughter - I was waiting for this iPhone more than she. Now I know that some of this money was part of his boyovi premie (combat bonuses) and that in his brigade there were only 300s. I keep thinking to myself - everything has a price. We all know it, but we rarely know the exact number. I wonder why - it feels like it’s like the subject of death - something uncomfortable and therefore not to be discussed. But my thoughts get interrupted by his friend and I walk back to my seat. Once I look up, I see Shahtar’s eyes, again. I tell him that in January I had a group show and I showed paintings that depict my family’s farm. He grew up on a farm as well. I show him strawberries, and he tells me about horses.
Now I know that Shahtar’s name is Anatoliy, his automat and my phone have four numbers in common. He tells me that he placed the drawing, I gifted him this morning, next to the Holy Book volunteers sent him from his village of Mala Vyska [2]. He keeps it in the pocket of his ankle.
I hope we can heal those wounds.
I hope soon we will be able to
unhitch the horses,
and go to bed to rest[3].
06.02.2024, Kharkiv
Lybny - founded in 988 as a “defensive line to protect the southern borders of Kyivan Rus from steppe attackers” - read more
Mala Vyska (Kirovohrad region) - "according to legend, on the site of today's Malaya Vyska, there was a village of the Cossack Nikodym" - read more
Traditional Ukrainian song - Rozpryahayte, khloptsi, koni - read more