I am back in Kyiv. I am working in my home town for the first time in twelve years. It is hot here. My Mom lifts a kettle from a stove to make me coffee. She wants to show me the dress she tailored and sewed. My Mother likes flowers.

First impressions are very bright.

I climb the “Tatarka" hill which overlooks the Podol, and “Tatarka's" life draws into my eyes with it's green fences. Street dogs go about their business. I read the wonder in their eyes when our glances meet. I think they know I am not a local here any more. I see things I have seen many times. Now they drive into my sight presented on a rotating stage, and lit by stage lights. Every Electric Post now has the power of a monument. – Do you remember? It was exactly the same Post near your school. You were always stumbling on corrupted asphalt next to it. And there, there at your “Kindergarten" studio, apricots were similarly falling on a parked “Lada" car. Do you remember this? – Dog's eye questions me.

There are some new impressions too. Impressive new cars parked by the old dovecotes. Pathetic hi-rises on the other side of the street in the deep ravine compete with the Radio-Tower for the view on the paradise hill. The Radio-Tower also watches the progress in my work. It does not care. It is just curious.

Natalia Laluq