Why I Love What I Do

Since I remember, I was fascinated by photos. At home, we had a large album filled with photographs. Most of them were black and white. I used to love to go through the pages, study every picture. Among them, I always tried to find the smallest sepia print with my father at the front during WWII in 1943.
I was enchanted by this photo. I would stare at this tiny print feeling teleported to that place and time. For me, this small print was the most treasured and precious photo in the whole album. Today I try to picture that unknown photographer. How in the middle of the war he could track my father to hand him this print.
More so, how this print survived in my dad’s belongings through the war? People knew the value of photo prints those days!

My mom wasn’t affectionate to us kids. So, this is the only informal photo of us together. I do not count formal family photos taken in a studio. You know, those where the whole family would line up and look into the camera, saying “cheese”.

I remember when looking at this photo I could feel my father’s strong hands lifting me up. He put me on this table near a jar full of beautiful spring flowers. He probably asked me to stay still for a moment, but that I don’t remember. I think my love for photography I’ve got from my father. The fact that he wasn’t a photographer and didn’t have a camera didn’t stop him. He would use any opportunity to photograph our family. Usually, he would invite a friend with a camera or photographer from his work.

Life wasn’t very kind to my parents. They lost their firstborn girl at the age of 11 due to CHD. The second daughter got polio when she was three yo. I’m being number three, a result of a happy accident. So, I always felt the subconscious anxiety of my parents of letting me be myself in fear anything can happen to me. There was also guilt which resulted in a lack of physical affection in our family. This is probably the only photo I have of my father holding me in his arms.

I grew up in Soviet times, so we did not celebrate Christmas like the rest of the world. But trust me, we had an equivalent of every holiday, just without religious meaning behind it. So, instead of Christmas, we had New Year’s Eve. We decorated the New Year’s tree, had a family gathering with presents and favourite food. The only thing, the celebration was happening at midnight. And then, in two weeks, we celebrated Old-New Year Eve. You say What?! Yes, that actually came from Soviet Government adopting the new Gregorian calendar. But people did not want to give up on the old Julian calendar. So we were still celebrating Old New Year’s Eve, which comes on the night between 13 and 14 of January.

I always had a feeling that there is much more to our existence. So, consciously and unconsciously, I was always searching. And I am very grateful that my seeking steered my life away from superficial. I’ve spent some time in India. I’ve learned about immaterial. My values have changed, my perspectives have changed, my life took a steep turn. This is when and how I met my husband.

Soon after, we got married. In Finland, where my husband’s family is from, in winter, in the snow!

I have always been a “cat person”. I do love all the animals, but there is something about feline grace, character and independence, that makes me “purr” with joy when I see any cat.

I bought my first camera on vacation in Crimea in the 1990s. My friend and I were photographing each other at every pretty site or background we came upon. It was fun to do. But photos came out monotonous and boring.

From that moment on, I became a person behind the camera. I stopped taking pictures of myself and turned the camera around. The ability to document the moments I saw happening around me captivated and inspired me. Mind you, that was still an analogue era in photography, and those were just amateur snaps.

In this photo, I am with two of my favourite people, my father and my nephew. Both are no longer with us. My father lived a long and remarkable life. He went through WWII, enlisted himself at 18. After short basic military training, he went straight to the front line from 1942 till 1945. He passed away peacefully at the age of 89.
My nephew Sasha was 27 when he died in his sleep. Not, when being a teenager, he was exploring the undergrounds of Moscow with his friends. Not when he was skiing in the Caucasus mountains. Not when he was installing air-cons in old high rise buildings in Moscow. He went to bed and never woke up. He just learned that he is going to be a father. I am so grateful to have a few photos of him.

Like every other mom, I too became obsessed with capturing my baby. First everything: smile, sit up, crawl, walk, you name it I photographed it.

This is one of the moments when you are happy you have a camera at hand.

Needless to say, my Aussie born and raised husband took me away from the cold and long Finnish winters. As soon as our girl turned one we moved to Queensland. One of my favourite places here is Tangalooma. It feels magical watching dolphins rushing towards a shore, happily greeting humans. Every time I am there, my heart starts trembling with joy and wonder in awe of these majestic creatures.

I love the ocean, there is nothing more to say.

For me, nothing says Paradise, like colourful birds. I feel blessed when they fill up the sky above and especially when they sit on your head!

When I was younger, I used to have very high standards for everyone and especially for myself. I probably was a perfectionist in everything. Life, marriage, motherhood changed my “standards” unrecognisably!
I am still a perfectionist though, but it only concerns my work.