One thing you may find constant in Ukraine is the solemn solitude winter instills with the cold winds it brings.
As lively as this Eastern European country is, the winter is an unforgiving mood killer.
Add the atrocities of the pandemic in the mix, and you have got the biggest dose of seasonal depression lingering under your nose.
I really wanted to capture the essence of a cold winter in a picture. The dreadful emptiness it feels when the clock hits 6 and the people start scattering to go home.
Although there is a sense of relief in the air, a feeling of a warm corner with hot cacao awaiting at home, it is hard to ignore the weight on everyone's shoulder.
A weight carrying the dull, almost black and white snowy streets and the exhaustion from heavy, freezing winds.
Creeping into the realms of the aftereffects of an apocalypse.
At times there is no one on the streets. The aisles once filled with hyperactive young men, and flirtatious beautiful women, now lay barren and silent.
An occasional pair of mum and son will show up. Sliding down the heaps of snow, turned snow slides.
A rare view of a middle aged woman will pop up, standing under her apartment building in nothing but a night gown, smoking a cigarette.
There is so much peace. So much tranquility. Almost addicting levels. No sounds, no worries, just soft snow beneath your feet and a constant comforting pat on your head from constant snow falling from above. It is almost impossible not to enter a trance like realm. One filled with outworldly clarity and reflection.
In the photograph I wanted to reflect how it all feels.
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