What convinced you to return to create Time of the Phoenix?
In my thoughts, I kept coming back to Ukraine. This short visit to what was once a warm, welcoming, and laidback home has left me with complex emotions. I decided to return to Ukraine at the end of July. That was when I started taking pictures.
The ultimate goal of my visit was to reconnect to my home. I wanted to share this moment in history with my old and new friends – many of whom have become internally displaced refugees, fighters in the armed forces, paramedics, and war documentarians. I had cameras and film on me, but I didn’t set any intentions – I was unsure if I’d be able to pull off the pictures.
In July I entered Ukraine through the Romanian border. I think I’d entirely accepted the possibility of dying in yet another Russian missile strike on the civilians, but I was still a little anxious to go. This anxiety evaporated in a split second when I saw the piece of Ukrainian land over the Danube river. It got me madly exhilarated and thirsty for all these little things that felt as if they were carved in my DNA: a mosaic pattern on an older woman’s headscarf, a pile of concrete rocks next to the wired Ukrainian trident, a bold “Russian Warship Go Fuck Yourself” patch on a border control officer’s shoulder.
I felt viscerally connected to everything around me. I finished the first roll in my first 10 minutes in Ukraine – my driver thought I was completely nuts, but appreciated it. I didn’t stop for the next month and a half.