22/07/2026
The island is very small and inhabited mostly by deer, peacocks, and firefighters. The air is filled with the red dust that the dry soil is made of, mixed with dry and salty summer grass, fir trees, and, of course, the sea.
Probably because of my childhood summers in Crimea, this smell always acts like a balm for my soul. The chest expands, and the nerves start to soften. To make the sense of awe even stronger, everything is mysteriously filled with the frankincense aroma. It does feel like being in church, albeit in a bikini. I am very determined to find the Boswellia plant whose resin the incense is made of to prove to myself it’s not a hallucination.
In 5 min we’re about to get on a motorboat to see the Antigone adaptation in a Roman amphitheatre. It is my first day at the artists’ retreat at Mali Brijuni in Croatia.
The project is called the Art Therapy Force and they are supporting Ukrainian artists and cultural workers who work with trauma and take care of their communities. It is my first time with them, I got to the retreat through an open call. There will be some lectures and workshops, but most importantly - 10 days outside the war and inside the Adriatic Sea.
Today I walked into an ancient limekiln in a dense pistachio forest. And checked some of the red soils for clay-likenes. Maybe wetting the dust with one’s saliva is not the best test, but it did make a slippery and sticky mud. Gotta try more later.
