This image was made after the outbreak of the war in Ukraine, at a moment when news reportsincreasingly reduced human loss to numbers: forty dead, one hundred, one thousand. As these figuresmultiplied, individual lives disappeared behind statistics. Against the background of the war and thepolitical reality in Russia, I began to feel that joy was no longer fully accessible, even when surrounded bybeauty, sunlight, and celebration.I don't experience mourning as something bound to a sacred building. For me, the world itself becomes atemple. I imagined a fragile memorial made of candlelight, placed not inside a church but under the opensky, by the sea.The first attempt failed. The wind extinguished every flame. The second attempt also did not succeed.Only on the third attempt, months later, during a stay on the island of Corfu, did the image finally emerge.At dawn, on the windowsill of an old villa overlooking the sea, I lit the candles once more. That the imagecame into being at a sunrise is essential for me. Dawn is not a triumph or a resolution, but a quiet momentof hope that exists despite everything.