On October 17 2016 scientists detected the existence of gravitational waves – wrinkles in space and time, caused by interaction of two neutron stars. They confirmed Einstein’s prediction and concluded that every object in the Universe interacts with one another, every object emits a particle field that is affected by the presence of the close one. Since the moment I heard about the discovery, I was fascinated, but not about the prospect of the future stellar developments, but what that meant for people.

That meant interacting with people actually changes the particle field around you. That a person comes close and you can’t see yourself changing but you are. And then you approach someone else and spread the change, and we are all ever-changing and ever-connected.

But… what if someone could see the space around us, overlapping, changing and growing? What if this this person was alone amidst those who were not able to see? I think this what being an artist means, what it felt like for me. I could see and write about what I saw. This ability to feel the space between us… I had it and I thought my life was complete, I could live and create this way. When I came to IWC Write in Armenia, I felt like for the first time in my life everyone around could see them. Like it was the space between us that communicated first, not languages. Like on some intimate level we all saw, heard and smelled the same things, shared this unnamed, unmarked, unheard language of shapes, feelings and connections.

And that actually affected our communication a lot. It didn’t feel like a gathering of different people from different countries. It felt like same people, brought up in different conditions and beliefs. I mean, Georgians speak other language that Ukrainians, Turks’ faith is different, Armenians eat their barbeque in a very not Ukrainian way (but good one though, I think I’ll use it at home, so thanks) and Russia and Ukraine are facing two diametrically opposite ways of development. But at the core we were same one thing. Artists. We observed and poured ourselves onto paper. We talked and merged ourselves into something bigger than just citizens of some country – I feel like we became emissaries of literature, of the art that will shape our peoples and countries’ future.

It is this ability to see artistic heart as if it was visual and pulsating and alive that allowed us to open in a way I don’t think we all usually do at home. We opened because the people here can listen. Can believe. Can tolerate. Can make you feel what you really are – an artist. A person who fights for his/her country yet shares deep connections with people over the borders.

I feel like more than myself now. Like you all – organizers, mentors and, above all, participants – have given me a part of you. Like your particles buries so deep into my skin that know I just have to write and speak about what is important. I must visit Tbilisi, Istanbul and spend some more time in Armenia.

And come to Lviv, please. I would really like to see you again.

P.S. Some specific “thank you”s:

To Ukrainian team and Liubko – for all the jokes about Shevchenko and сродну працю.

To Georgians – for girls’ nights and the Dato effect.

To Turks – for making me see a majestic country behind a vision I had from Muhteşem Yüzyıl and seaside hotel complexes.

To Armenians – for warm welcome

To Russians – for sympathy, tears and mending