We are in the process of filming a poetic documentary. Shaheed drones sent by the Russian military flying above Kharkiv all Sunday. Their aims are a home in Saltivka district, a hospital, and a gas station. It’s bizarre to think that this place is so precious to us, with its palm trees in greenhouses of botanical gardens, with its forests burnt by the Russian artillery.
The forests around Kharkiv are slowly growing with young pines. They pop up from the snow like little furry monsters, reclaiming life, reclaiming the city from the buzzing of the Shaheed terror.
“Where is it going?“
“I don’t know, the main thing is not into us.“
Breathe in, breathe out.
