A wolf looks into the camera at the 30 km (19 miles) exclusion zone around the Chernobyl nuclear reactor in the abandoned village of Orevichi, Belarus, March 2, 2016. What happens to the environment when humans disappear? Thirty years after the Chernobyl nuclear disaster, booming populations of wolf, elk and other wildlife in the vast contaminated zone in Belarus and Ukraine provide a clue. (Photo by Vasily Fedosenko/Reuters)

Scaffolding holding a remnant of the Soviet Union, the hammer and sickle, is seen on a rooftop of an abandoned building in the town of Pripyat on January 25, 2006 near Chernobyl, Ukraine. The town of Pripyat, deserted since the 1986 catastrophe, once housed 30,000 people, the majority of being workers from the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant. Days after the catastrophe the inhabitants were relocated to other locations in the Soviet Union. The town of Pripyat has remained uninhabited since. Prypyat and the surrounding area will not be safe for human habitation for several centuries. Scientists estimate that the most dangerous radioactive elements will take up to 900 years to decay sufficiently to render the area safe.

“A happy camper has shown he has the world at his feet by capturing a series of breath-taking mountain views from his tent. Russian Photographer Oleg Grigoriev, 35, travels with little more than a tent and his camera taking snaps of the mountainous terrain of central Asia and Eastern parts of Europe. The adventurous lawyer, who lives in Ukraine, started camping in remote mountainous areas in 2007 but only came up with the concept of photographing views from his tent after a memorable trip to the Fann Mountains of Tajikistan”. – Caters News

A train drives along a field at a salt production site at the Sasyk-Sivash lake near the city of Yevpatoria, Crimea, November 14, 2017. A saltwater lagoon known as Lake Sasyk-Sivash on Ukraine's Crimea peninsula is the source of a rare resource: pink salt. The mineral is tinted by tiny algae that produce the pigment beta-carotene. Each autumn, seasonal workers collect thousands of tons of pink salt for processing and export. (Photo by Pavel Rebrov/Reuters)

Nikolay Skidan, a hunter, carries the skin of a wolf in the village of Khrapkovo, Belarus February 1, 2017. Wolf fur grows thickest in winter, so Belarussian hunter Vladimir Krivenchik only sets his traps once snow is on the ground. He and his wife live on the edge of the Chernobyl exclusion zone – 2,600 square km of land on the Belarus-Ukraine border that was contaminated by a nuclear disaster in 1986. (Photo by Vasily Fedosenko/Reuters)

Born in 1958 in Kiev, Ukraine, artist Mark Khaisman studied Art and Architecture at the Moscow Architectural Institute in Russia. Now living in Philadelphia, USA, Khaisman uses rolls of brown packaging tape to create incredible works of art. Mark characterizes his work as ‘pictorial illusions formed by light and shadow’. The three key elements are: translucent packing tape, clear acrylic or film panels, and light. By superimposing layers of packaging tape Mark can ‘play on degrees of opacity that produces transparencies highlighted by the color, shading, and embossment’.

A woman looks at traditional Ukrainian Easter eggs “Pysanka”, installed as part of the upcoming celebrations of Easter, in central Kiev, Ukraine, April 29, 2016. A pysanka is a Ukrainian Easter egg, decorated with traditional Ukrainian folk designs using a wax-resist (batik) method. The word pysanka comes from the verb pysaty, “to write”, as the designs are not painted on, but written with beeswax. Many other eastern European ethnic groups decorate eggs using wax resist for Easter. These include the Belarusians, Bulgarians, Croats, Czechs, Hungarians, Lithuanians, Poles, Romanians, Serbs, Slovaks, Slovenes and Sorbs. (Photo by Valentyn Ogirenko/Reuters)

Ukrainian artist Dariya Marchenko works on a portrait of Russian President Vladimir Putin named “The Face of War” which is made out of 5,000 cartridges brought from the frontline in eastern Ukraine, in Kiev, July 23, 2015. The portrait will be presented along with a novel which will tell personal stories of six people involved in this project including Daria's own story and stories of people who helped her to collect shells from the frontline. Daria Marchenko calls her art approach philosophic symbolism where every element has its hidden meaning. In her works cartridges mean human's life that was brutally ended. (Photo by Gleb Garanich/Reuters)