One Aloe, One Ficus, One Avocado and Six Dracaenas
There are a washing machine wrapped in tape, meter-long indoor plants with roots and children's drawings among the hundreds of boxes on which addresses of Ukrainian cities are written.
This place resembles a warehouse of lost things.
The silence is broken by a woman's voice, that of the owner of one of these boxes. She is bidding farewell to her home in Kyiv, speaking of the belongings left behind. Each item has a story, a memory that is being left behind. Through her words, the home seems to come alive, each item imbued with a sense of warmth and familiarity.
People begin to appear in the so-called warehouse, taking their pieces of home in the form of parcels. They sift through the boxes, searching for their treasured possessions. Some are filled with joy, others with sadness.
Meanwhile a woman's voice questions, does the loss of belongings matter?
