When I hugged my grandmother at the airport, one small suitcase in hand, with some t- shirts and a few pairs of jeans, I thought it was just a holiday, a month, and then back home. I was 16 at the time. Few years later, I came back to Prague. By then, Communism was gone and I was an American citizen. The memory of the magical city where I grew up never left me, neither in New York city, not later in Los Angeles.
Prague - my ancient, mysterious town with winding cobble stone streets and beautiful bridges resonates with me to this day. It was this visual feast that I missed so much. I searched for this perfection elsewhere and discovered it in people. The glimpse of the soul, the hidden beauty. It’s not a cold process. It’s a love story. Each time, I almost fall in love with what I see in the person that I photograph. No matter the sex, the age, the notoriety, the social position or the money. My camera helps to translate this vision from one language to another. The fact that I grew up on movie sets, and later my studies as a filmmaker, screenwriter and actress, were all part of this process.
Sometimes I have to pinch myself when I catch myself crossing the Golden Gate Bridge or a street in Hollywood on my way to work at one of the big studios. A dream come true for a teenager that landed in America to find freedom, with a small suitcase and a brave mother.