The photo was taken in 2019, somewhere in the Omo Valley on the territory of a small tribal community of the Mursi people. The Mursi are a poor people living in Mago National Park and seem to accept this with nobility, proud of the culture they come from. The women work in the corn fields all day, and the men seem to do nothing else but guard the tribe and improve their stick fighting.

The initial euphoria of my appearance passed when a woman appeared with a child, whom she had tied with a piece of cloth on her back. She didn’t seem to pay much attention to me because she was in a hurry. The first photo I took of her was from behind, and I didn’t particularly like it. Later, she emerged from the bushes without her child and adorned with tusks and trinkets.

It is a known fact that Mursi women do not go around so decorated in their daily lives. But cutting off their lower lips, removing their front teeth and stretching them with ever-larger discs is real. They do this transformation with all kinds of decorations on their heads and faces only for the tourists, because they know that they will receive a reward from them if they are photographed. What attracted me to this woman was the pride that I read in her eyes. Pride that says "I am Mursi" and I am strong and ready for the difficult life in the valley. Her piercing and direct gaze towards the lens is a bold statement of identity, dignity and an indomitable spirit that manages to transcend all cultural and geographical boundaries. Stunning and natural beauty, unadulterated and pure, arising from a way of life. This image would impress anyone. It is different from anything we are used to seeing.

In recent years, I have increasingly felt that I am more attracted to documentary photography. The search for raw authenticity. The instinct leads me to an undirected, unadulterated reality, which is perhaps what every photographer strives for. The priority is to capture what is actually happening, without interference, while respecting the autonomy of the object and the factual nature of the moment. Of course, I do not give up on the artistic approach. The main aspiration remains to find a balance between documentary and art photography. I believe that the perfect shot will be born from this interaction; it just takes time.

I still think I haven't taken the picture of my life. It will be hard for me to recognise it, because I don't even like my own work easily. Probably as I get older, I become more impatient and in a hurry to take the picture, and I talk less and less to the people I photograph.

I haven’t shared it before, but I avoid or very rarely look at photos of other travel or portrait photographers. This is because I don’t want to subconsciously copy their ideas or shooting techniques. This is why I don’t like and distance myself as much as I can from planned and set compositions when shooting. Candid photos are 100% the best photos in the world. For me, photography is about being in the right place, waiting for the moment and capturing what appears in front of you. That was the moment with the two boys in the background who climbed the dried trees and entered the frame for the photo “Portrait Woman Mursi”.

I am in love with black and white photography. It can tell powerful stories. Black and white distracts the viewer's brain from reality and directs it towards a more abstract interpretation of the subject. By removing the distracting effect of colour, black and white reduces the photo to its absolute essence. Perhaps it is nostalgia for the past or a way to escape our saturated colour world; it is unique precisely because of what it takes away. We experience the real world in full, vibrant colour, so the moment we look at a monochrome image, our brain is forced to process the scene differently. Here comes the subtle point that not every photo is strong without colour. Some shots are good in colour, and others are not. My opinion is that it takes a lot of practice for the photographer's eye to judge whether a change is needed.

As I already mentioned, I visited Mago National Park twice, in 2018 and 2019. In 2018, I travelled by motorbike for 20 days with a guide, of course. It was a truly unique experience. At that time, the tribes were not yet disarmed. This happened in early 2019, and with very heavy repression from the government. Everyone had at least one AK47. And keep in mind that I have also met children, maybe around 13-15 years old, who would carry loaded assault rifles and go with a herd of cows to a watering place. The short story is about a father of three boys whom I photographed in 2018. The story with him begins with the photo "Warrior, Mursi tribe". In 2019, I returned to look for the family in the same place, but of course they were not there. One of the leaders of the neighbouring clan suggested that either they had gone to search for fertile lands or he had been killed by government soldiers if he refused to surrender his weapons. The fate of his family is also unclear. I sincerely hope that they have found better places to live and that the boys are now grown and healthy.