Since Russia's invasion began on February 24, 2022, simply going on with life has become a form of resistance, and putting things off until tomorrow feels dangerously presumptuous. In response, my friends started building communities, organizing festivals and exhibitions, writing songs, making films and taking photographs.

Today, nearly every cultural event includes a fundraiser for the army. The choice is simple: you either support the army or you are in the army. Any other choice could prove fatal.

By fall 2022, my friends and I revived the Lesya Kvartyrinka festival. But now, in this third year of war, it has become more difficult, as the pain grows exponentially. More friends enlist, more lives are lost. We tell ourselves there is no justice. Then we remember the infantryman in the trench and pull ourselves together: he is fighting to buy us time we cannot afford to lose. We can organize bigger events and raise more money for those on the front lines.

'Days of mourning are part of life'

For Ukrainians, the idea of normality has changed. Of course, it is more dangerous near the front lines. But even in Kyiv, air raid sirens sound almost daily. We have grown accustomed to checking alert apps to decide whether or not to seek shelter. Bombings, casualty reports and days of mourning have now become part of daily life.

Today, I met a friend serving in the army, and I caught myself thinking it could be the last time I see him. I took a selfie with that thought in mind.

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