Copywriting & Storytelling   

©Yana Northen /

@yanaphotos789

PROJECTS

Through my time spent with these volunteers, listening to their stories and photographing their efforts, I have come to appreciate the depth of their commitment and enthusiasm.


These dedicated individuals invest their free time, energy, and love into preserving and maintaining this piece of our historical heritage.

 Their work not only keeps the station operational but also serves as a living testament to the history and culture of our community.





By capturing their passion and dedication, I hope to inspire others and highlight the meaningful impact retirees can have on society.

The project has taken on a deeply important direction, focusing on the people who are truly the heart and soul of restoring and maintaining historical sites.

It’s not just a project about physical restoration; it’s about human dedication, selflessness, and collective effort, making it more profound and meaningful.

I want to give these volunteers a "face" and recognise their heroism because, too often, the attention is focused on the end result—the restored buildings and other structures—while the people behind these processes remain in the shadows.

I want to show that without these volunteers, without their love and hard work, none of this would be possible.

My desire to make these individuals visible is a vital step in preserving not only the history of these sites but also the history of those who create it with their own hands.

This project aims to inspire others to recognise the value of volunteer work and demonstrate that the contributions of every individual can have a tremendous impact on society.


The forest was a place of restoration and healing for me, and its disappearance creates a sense of broken harmony, as it was not just a physical space but also an emotional support.

A sense of farewell and reflection on the destruction of natural harmony.


How humans perceive and in others relate to nature?


 We often associate pain with cries and tears because these are the reactions we see and feel in ourselves or in others.


But nature, devoid of our language, expresses pain differently — through silence, emptiness, a disruption of familiar rhythms.

When a forest is cut down, it’s not just a single tree that disappears — an entire world of sounds, scents, and connections, living in every leaf and root, vanishes.


This silence is like a voiceless scream.


Can humans feel this pain?


Perhaps every time we enter a place where a forest once stood but now only stumps and fallen trunks remain, we feel a sense of unease, as if something important has gone, something alive has been lost.


This is an intuitive pain that connects us with nature.

 Strangely enough, we ourselves are a part of nature, and by destroying it, we destroy something within ourselves as well.



In old age, everyone needs more attention. It is so sad that we sometimes forget about those to whom we owe our existence.

If we all communicated with them more often, I believe they could set a good example for the current generation.

 Ultimately, we all grow old, and that is an inevitable fact.

We will all need attention and care.

For me, communicating with people from different eras is always enlightening and fascinating.

They preserve and honor family traditions, and in their times, people valued different things and were more courteous and gallant in their interactions.


The Path Through the Fog Can Return to the Light

(ONGOING PROJECT)

This project is my story.

A story of how, after going through life’s trials, I found myself again. Nature became my support, a place of silence and awareness, a kind of meditation. It is important to learn to listen, feel, and trust. And if you open your heart to it, nature will reveal an entire world in return—a world of harmony, strength, and inner peace.



  • People say that in this world, no two destinies are the same, and that every life story is unique. 
    There was a man who had been born in a small house on the edge of a forest. 
    In his childhood, his life was light and carefree. 
    Dreams came easily, and ideas swirled in his mind, making him feel that ahead of him lay an endless space for discoveries. 
    It would not always be like that.
    Over time, the lightness faded away, and carefreeness gave way to questions, worries, and hard realities. 
    At times, his path became narrow and winding. Sometimes it even disappeared into thick fog... and chaos followed.
     The world was crumbling before his eyes, and the ground seemed to slip from beneath his feet. He clung to everything he could, desperately trying to hold on and keep his balance. 
    Gripped by fear and disappointment, he hid in his shell. 
    He closed himself off—not only from the world but from himself as well. Days turned into years, and he lived in his little refuge, afraid to step outside. 
    A lot of time had passed since then... 
    One morning, however, he went back into the forest that stretched beside his house.
     It was the same place, the same paths he had walked countless times. He walked forward automatically, as he had always done, and didn't even notice when he found himself among the trees. 
    After taking a few more steps, he suddenly stopped.
     Something stirred inside him... 
    It all happened so suddenly that he couldn't understand what had come over him.
    What invisible forces had made him freeze in this place? He began to listen carefully.
     The wind whispered in the treetops. High in the sky, birds soared. Just recently, it had rained, and water droplets which had remained on the tree leaves began to gently roll down and fall, splashing on his forehead with every gust of wind. 
    He closed his eyes and ran his hands over his face, as if washing it with the morning freshness. The man raised his head. Through the branches, sunlight was streaming, and he stretched out his hand, wanting to feel its warmth.
    — What is this?
    Am I dreaming?
    — He whispered.
    He looked around and couldn't believe his eyes. It was the same forest, but the trees had grown, their thick leaves swayed gently in the sunlight. Raindrops shimmered and sparkled in the sunshine like precious stones. It felt like a miracle. 
    Why hadn't he noticed this before?
     Why, walking through this forest over and over again, had he forgotten that these sights existed?
     The forest had always been there. Deep inside, the man felt regret and disappointment for all those years he had been in oblivion, feeling nothing but pain. He took a deep breath and looked up again…
    The clouds were slowly drifting across the sky, taking the most whimsical shapes.
    The man smiled—and for the first time in a long while, he felt that smile deep in his heart.
    From that moment on, nature became his friend and mentor, source of meditation. In its silence, he found peace. The trees taught him resilience—after all, they survive storms but always reach for the light.
     The birds taught him lightness and how to find the way home. The water taught him flexibility and how to gently navigate obstacles, never stopping.
    Thus, the man continued his journey, but now not in search of something distant, but in search of a deep connection with what was right beside him.
    Nature had always been his companion, and together with it, he walked through life, discovering new horizons of joy and peace, realizing that every moment is a miracle.


    The Mindful Life

    (ongoing project)


    When I brought the flowers home, I had no idea that it would mark the beginning of a long observation.
    I placed one flower in water and left the other without it.
    Every day, I watched what happened to them. The one in the water gradually bloomed, while the other first drooped its "head" and then straightened up again. Over time, it became fragile, changed its color, structure, and shape.
    In the end, both met the same fate—wilting.
    I wondered: what is water for us?
    It is love, emotions, experiences, impressions—the things that fill our lives with meaning.
    Some people, like flowers, receive enough water and remain full of life for a long time.
    Others, living in emptiness, like flowers without water, wither much faster.
    But wilting is inevitable for everyone...
    And yet, what remains after?
    For flowers—seeds, bulbs, roots...
    For people—perhaps a trace in the hearts of others.
    Maybe the meaning of life is not in resisting wilting, but in blooming, filling the world with yourself, leaving something behind.
    This project is a reflection on life and time.
    On how we change.
    On how even in wilting, there is its own beauty, because it is part of a natural cycle.


    A small story.


    Deep in the garden, where morning dew trembled on the leaves, two flowers grew.
    Each morning, they stretched toward the sun, soaking in its warmth, opening their petals to life.

    One day, a person cut them and brought them home.
    One was placed in water, while the other was left lying on the table.


    Days passed.


    The flower in the water stood proudly, its petals glowing, enjoying the soft morning light.
    The flower without water remained the same for a while, but soon its stem began to dry, its petals shriveled, its color faded.

    — You are losing yourself, — said the flower in the water.
    — I am simply following my own path, — replied the other.


    Days went by.


    The flower without water crumbled into delicate petals. They settled on the table, light as feathers.
    The person gathered them, went out into the garden, and, with a flick of the hand, let them drift in the wind.

    Time passed, and suddenly, a new flower bloomed in the garden.
    It stretched toward the sun, soaking in its warmth, opening its petals to life.


    We are all like flowers.
    We live, we bloom, and then we go.
    But something remains after us—words, emotions, memories, inspiration.
    And perhaps that is our immortality.


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