I was born and grew up on Sakhalin Island in the Far East, in the Pacific Ocean, north of Japan. As you can imagine, it is a pretty remote and unique place. I feel deep emotional connection to my island, but I have been separated from it for most of my life. I have often felt like an island in the foreign lands and among strange people, a lost island, just like my home. Last summer I visited it for the first time in 20 years. Two islands, uniting for a brief moment. It was a relatively short trip, but I was able to get to some very special hard-to-reach places to shoot and to reconnect. The most important one was the lighthouse Aniva. Back in early 80s it was supposed to be my home (from age 3 to 6), but my parents chose safety. I used to dream about this little girl living there, what person she would become. That vision haunted me all my life. It took me 2 planes, 3 cars, 2 boats and 30 hours to get there. I was lucky enough to come back from there safe and sound, unlike my film. The radiation destroyed it. The only photo from the precious lighthouse that survived was taken with a digital camera. Each photograph is a reflection of both myself and the island, therefore, a self-portrait with a depth within.