The Gray Zone

First time I visited the Donbass region was at the beginning of summer of 2014, right at
the beginning of the military conflict. Nobody knew at that time how long this conflict
would last, and how difficult and painful the consequences of this conflict would be.
People of Donbass truly hoped the war would end quickly, and peace would come back to
their long-suffering land. Three years went by. The active phase of the conflict is over, but
there is no peace yet. With this war, hearts of people were filled with uncertainty, despair,


On pourrait se perdre au milieu de ce calme. Une prairie déserte, un étang, une forêt. Le vent qui fait danser les herbes. Les gens demeurent invisibles, à première vue, mais il y a déjà quelques maisons. Il y a quelques présences, des mains qui nous indiquent une direction, que le voyage peut être doux. Il y a quelques animaux qui font ce qu'ils peuvent pour maintenir leur présence et la manifester à ce monde là. Voici un monde endormi en noir et blanc.

Like the rain falling from the sky

War still flows today, like a river, in our imagination. Death and devastation are the mosaic of those news that keep following one another in the newspapers, on the web, on television, on the radio. Death and war are the archetypes par excellence of current events. The regime of this 21st century is precisely that kind of actuality understood just as present tense. Only present tense, only now, just for a while. Like a story on Instagram. War becomes then an abstract, liquid fact that one tends to forget (at least if one is not a historian or memory-making professional).