I was living my life when all of a sudden—with a single news announcement—I appeared in a conflict zone, and my country turned into a homeland.
Nothing has been the same since.
My camera and pen have become my daily ritual leading me through the war as if holding my hand. Questioning to myself what “the war” actually means, I have followed life behind the frontline, its ups and downs, the hope that alternates with pain, and its endless loop of timelessness. I tell a story of my small proud nation trying to survive through grief and loss.
Long after the journalists leave and the headlines fade, my diary stands as a testament about us all, about the human proclivity to create war, suffer the results, and create it again.