About

STATION BUCHA
So it happened.
February, March - I am close to Kyiv, in Bucha.
A month lasts like a year.
It is impossible to abandon everything and everyone.
Another reality, where the usual standards don’t apply, where the artist does not exist as one. Unless he
is a writer, documentary filmmaker or correspondent.
What is the point of painting and creating?
What can be more terrifying and truer than HORROR itself?
Although here the terrible becomes common, everyday.
Fantasies, allegories are inappropriate.
Now - only seen matters.
What is heard or seen on the screen - has no more weight.
When seen is too …