‘A friend gave her dress to me. I wore it to the workshop. On April 4th, I wrote a text on the dress, in front. That was what I really felt under the crust of postmodernism, the most stupid things. Then there were Bucha and Irpin, everyone cried a lot. I already told the family and at work that I applied for a visa, it was difficult. On April 5th, they gave me the visa. On April 12th, I wrote the text on the back of the dress, dried it, put it on and left.’

Dress Front:

sea of pain

I don’t understand how

to live through all this

human pain

I’m scared to live

in this country it hurts

to be an accomplice

in the crimes against

human being. I love

my homeland but

I feel like a foreigner

Dress Back

like rats

I don’t want to be a runner

[I] don’t want to leave

[I] want to leave out of interest

for the new

opportunities, but not

out of pain, out of fear,

out of necessity

[I] don’t understand how

my own country... [I] lost


[I] want to belong

to love and freedom

life for everyone!