Kairo Urovi, an artist residing in London, explores the concepts of identity, belonging, and family diaspora in their artwork. Having obtained a BA degree in Photography from the London College of Communication, Kairo's artistic approach is community based. Their pieces have been showcased in various art galleries throughout London, including Autograph ABP, RichMix and Free Range. Being transgender themselves, Kairo is interested in the creation of new queer archives and the cultivation of a supportive network of visual artists who challenge the frequently damaging narratives propagated by the media.

"Light Are the Wounds Heavy Is the Wind is a body of work that explores my journey back to my home country Albania and the challenges I faced as a queer and transgender person there.

Last December I travelled to my family hometown, Shkoder. Here, I struggled with the found dichotomy of language. Language is a way of making yourself known, of recognising black from white, of forming an identity that shapes who you are and also how others recognise you. In the UK my name is Kairo, my pronouns are he/they. In Albania, I find myself tongue-tied: language becomes a minefield I cross carefully, all senses engaged, no room for mistakes. Fear takes over me, and I retreat back to using a language I forgot to speak a long time ago. For a month, I do not hear my name said out loud.

The split reality of people perceiving me as the “old” me versus the identity I have fought so hard to embody and maintain is reflected in this body of work. I find myself complacent in my own suffering and feel left with no choice but to find my voice again through another medium: image-making. Here, I am safe. Here, I speak of the pain whilst simultaneously mustering the courage to find myself again. Through the work, I understand that belonging becomes a thread I carry with me instead of the physical spaces I inhabit.

Light Are the Wounds Heavy Is the Wind is what comes out of this journey. Within its depths, intricate emotions of displacement, solitude and seclusion, stemming from being perceived as a girl, a niece and a granddaughter, take centre stage. In this context, the camera shutter transcends its role as a mere instrument, evolving into a source of empowerment while simultaneously capturing the bittersweet nostalgia and yearning for my own visibility. This body of work is my way of saying I am here. Not despite the grief and the silence and the lack of words and the deadnaming but because of it. It’s my story about grief as much as it is about finding love within it. For everything I could not say through words, I found a way to say through photographs.”