July 19, 2025 - The Day of Three Shows
They think they’re putting on a show.
But I see them creating a miracle.
The third call But I see them creating a miracle.
Are you ready to really see?
The light falls on them, yet somehow it touches every person in the audience.
Maybe because they’re ready to share it.
Maybe because they’re ready to share it.
I’m standing under the dome, in the aisle in the middle.
The hall is finally full of people.
The third call sounds, the light changes, the music begins, I lift the camera... And suddenly something breaks inside me - I start to cry. The tears come on their own - not about anything, just because it’s happening.
Because I’m here. Because it’s real.
I quickly pull myself together, wipe my eyes, pick up the camera - and step by step, start shooting, just to keep from drowning in my own trembling.
An artist steps onto the stage with a role, makeup, a trick. But under all that - there’s a person whose tooth hurt yesterday, whose soul hurts today, and who will still go under the dome tomorrow.
An artist is not a function - it’s a gift and a vulnerability. You laugh at the clown’s jokes, but his hands might be trembling from pain. You applaud the acrobat, but she’s just texted her mom that she misses her.
To see that doesn’t break the magic - it makes it real.
An artist is not a function - it’s a gift and a vulnerability. You laugh at the clown’s jokes, but his hands might be trembling from pain. You applaud the acrobat, but she’s just texted her mom that she misses her.
To see that doesn’t break the magic - it makes it real.
Somewhere between art and prayer
To look at an artist as a "performer" - that’s easy.
To look at them as a person who chose to be with you through art -
that’s what true gratitude is.
*You can view the photos full screen by clicking on them.
To look at them as a person who chose to be with you through art -
that’s what true gratitude is.
*You can view the photos full screen by clicking on them.
Circo Circo - where people mean more than tricks
The music is silent, but everyone still keeps the rhythm inside.
Intermission.
All the artists have already scattered to their posts - popcorn, water, toys... so that not a single child leaves upset.
Someone’s drinking water, someone’s laughing, someone’s hiding in their phone. The air smells of cotton candy and dust.
Everyone’s alive - and that’s already a miracle.
All the artists have already scattered to their posts - popcorn, water, toys... so that not a single child leaves upset.
Someone’s drinking water, someone’s laughing, someone’s hiding in their phone. The air smells of cotton candy and dust.
Everyone’s alive - and that’s already a miracle.
A second breath
In the second act, the circus stops being a circus.
There are no tricks here - only confessions.
Each movement is a phrase spoken without words.
And all that’s left - is to watch and believe.
There are no tricks here - only confessions.
Each movement is a phrase spoken without words.
And all that’s left - is to watch and believe.
There are moments when the audience smiles.
And I look - barely holding back tears.
I don’t see a show -
I see hearts that shine in the dark,
no matter what.
And I look - barely holding back tears.
I don’t see a show -
I see hearts that shine in the dark,
no matter what.
Because the human inside the artist -
that’s what remains when the lights go out.
It’s he who takes to bed the joy, the bruise, the warmth, the photograph, your smile.
And maybe it’s because of that - he’ll step onto the stage again.
that’s what remains when the lights go out.
It’s he who takes to bed the joy, the bruise, the warmth, the photograph, your smile.
And maybe it’s because of that - he’ll step onto the stage again.