Every spring, my mother dreamt of Crimea, and that’s how we knew winter was ending. Now, exiled from those shores, I still dream of its herbs, its sea, its air. Eleven years have passed since I last returned. For those displaced by Russia’s war, the longing for Crimea is both memory and wound — a repetition of trauma that we carry within us, and around which, somehow, we grow. The post Dreaming of Crimea by Oleksandra Kurbala appeared first on ROOM A Sketchbook for Analytic Action.| ROOM A Sketchbook for Analytic Action