“They are bombing Kyiv”. Iana woke me up with these words at the dawn of February 24, 2022. As I opened my eyes in the safety of our temporary home in Istanbul, I realized the unthinkable had happened, and our lives would never be the same. The morning brought a war with a taste of doomsday. A dragon was unleashed over Ukrainian skies.

I glanced out the window overlooking the Bosphorus, and I swear I could see our apartment in Odessa out in the distance, a place we had left in a hurry right before the invasion, with so many projects left undone. But I was one of the lucky ones. I was able to take my Ukrainian wife and creative partner, dancer Iana Komarnytska, out of harm’s way, escaping days before the bombs started to fall.

We had spent three years living in Ukraine, a place I had been visiting since 2014. I travelled all around the country working on photography projects, playing music for hundreds of dancers, meeting amazing people and falling in love with the land.

Now my friends are in bunkers, in basements. A little girl I played for — one that dances, plays violin, and speaks 4 languages — had to wake up with the sounds of bombs and run for cover. So many had even worse fates.

For 57 days, I keep an eye on bomb alerts next to my family and friends in Kyiv, Odesa, Kharkiv. I watch the horrors in Mariupol, Bucha. I try to find ways to help the people left to fend for themselves.

I asked myself: how could I help? What role should I have in the fight for peace? I can only offer what I do. I am a musician and a photographer. I write with sound and light about a vision for the interconnectedness of our planet. It was time to give my art as a gift to support the people suffering under the oppression of war.

These thoughts gave me the will to create my first photography book. Ventre, in my native language of Portuguese, means ‘womb’. In Brazil, Belly Dance is called ‘Dança do Ventre’ — the Dance of the Womb. The womb is a place of birth, of protection, of love, of beginnings. Of hope.

Belly dance is an art form that began in the Middle East, but today is a world wide celebration of the mixing of cultures and our common humanity. Throughout the years, I photographed belly dancers from all over the world. In this book you will find a selection of some of my favorite photographs featuring 56 dancers from 15 countries, including 10 Ukrainian dancers, and all profits from this project will be donated to charities helping women and children in Ukraine.

Sometimes we feel hopeless, as if our efforts are impossibly too small to make a difference. The dragon of war seems too big to be beaten. But I remind myself that even if one little girl in need gets a package of food, or a warm blanket, maybe that will give her enough strength to live through the night. And she will grow up to be a mother and a grandmother and tell her own children stories of a stranger that helped her survive. Small is big, and kindness is the ultimate strength.

My wish to you, as you go through the book, is that you find hope and inspiration in the beauty of belly dance. And maybe a little bit of the courage Ukrainians are showing us every day. Because dragons can be beaten.

Glory to Ukraine. Слава Україні!