Nonka

Nonka Photographer ↟ Artist ↟ Storyteller ↟ Creator
≜ Available to travel worldwide

It’s been a long time since I took a proper self-portrait—not a quick phone selfie, but a carefully composed image captu...
20/04/2026

It’s been a long time since I took a proper self-portrait—not a quick phone selfie, but a carefully composed image captured with my camera and the help of a wonderful assistant.
Why the silence? Truthfully, I find aging difficult. Friends often tell me I’m too critical of myself, and they’re likely right. It’s never easy to notice the subtle signs of time passing. But it is what it is. I am learning to be kinder to myself, embracing the fact that life is a journey, and that we earn the marks left on our faces.
Spring in Hungary this year is breathtaking. Nature has erupted in color, with new blooms appearing week by week. My favorite is the purple wisteria; everything about it is mesmerizing—the shape, the color, and the scent. Walking through them in full bloom feels like stepping onto another planet, or into a fantasy film.
I truly needed the day this photo was taken. The past few weeks have been emotionally overwhelming. My home country, Hungary, is undergoing massive changes, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like I can finally breathe here. Leaving over twenty years ago was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made, and I’m only now realizing how deeply that experience wounded me. This picture marks a turning point: for the first time in my life, I am truly proud of my Hungarian roots, and I have genuine hope for a brighter future here. 🇭🇺 🤍





Part 6: Light in the Dark - Why me? I’ve asked myself this question many times. Or rather, why did I survive? Several pe...
26/02/2026

Part 6: Light in the Dark - Why me? I’ve asked myself this question many times. Or rather, why did I survive? Several people encouraged me by saying that I have a purpose here, but I could never believe that life would deal such heavy blows purely for that reason. The most acceptable theory for me is the one I formulated for myself: when my life isn’t flowing in the right direction, when the water gets terribly murky around me, and when even the oxygen disappears from it, that’s when life sends a tsunami my way. A tidal wave comes and destroys everything, so I have no choice but to change and find a new direction.
It’s very hard to reach the point in life where you stop eating yourself up over what you’ve lost, and instead try to focus your attention on what you might have profited from a potential tragedy.

So what is the profit for me in all of this? My attention turned towards the world of the human mind. I want to become a psychologist and specialise in trauma processing. To help, help, and to help…
Happy 6th birthday to me. I thank myself for the perseverance and the blood, sweat, and tears I put into my existence day after day. I thank those who stand by me, and also those who turned away from me. They are my greatest teachers.

Happy seventh ❤️

Thank you so much for reading my story day by day. I’m beyond words grateful for every kind words and supportive thoughts.
Sending all my love to you and to everyone who survived something awful, and stood up for themselves even when taking a breath was too hard.
My story continues.
Thank you again all of for seeing me and hearing me 🙏🏻
With much love, Noa 🤍





Part 5: All the broken pieces - The status of my case was changed from a road traffic accident to attempted assault, but...
24/02/2026

Part 5: All the broken pieces - The status of my case was changed from a road traffic accident to attempted assault, but even that didn’t motivate anyone to investigate what actually happened. What was the motive? Was there one at all? 
Or did some psychopath just woke up on the wrong side of the bed that morning and decided to spare neither God nor man, literally running over anything and anyone that got in his way? I wasn’t even in his way... I was riding on the very edge of the road, so close to the curb that the only way I could have been closer is if I had actually been cycling on the pavement.

I like being alone, reflecting, getting to know my thoughts. My relationship with myself is still considered fresh, since I am only six years old. Six is my favourite number, so this has to be a good year.

They discharged me from the hospital by saying: “True, there’s no bleeding in the brain, but the next 48 hours are critical. Anything can happen. Here you go. Go home in peace, and then you’ll either die or you won’t.” The hospital washed its hands of any responsibility, and the police did the exact same thing. “Do you know how many cases like this happen?” they said with a bored look and tone. Indeed, a lot of cyclists get run over in London. But not like this. Three months after the incident, a detective contacted me, who for some reason was only shown the footage then. He said: “I’ve seen plenty of hit-and-run accidents, but never one with such an aggressive outcome.” That was when they changed the status of the case from an accident to attempted assault. My whole world collapsed. The country I had felt was my home up until then turned into a dark, alien place. Terror moved into my life. When I was finally in a state where I had the strength for short walks, I was constantly checking if someone was following me. I scrutinised people’s faces with eagle eyes. Maybe it was him? Or him? Maybe he’s watching me right now?

The last part is coming tomorrow. Thank you for reading me 🤍

Part 4: Uncertainty - I didn’t allow myself the option to lean back and say, ‘alright then, there are things I won’t be ...
23/02/2026

Part 4: Uncertainty - I didn’t allow myself the option to lean back and say, ‘alright then, there are things I won’t be able to do anymore.’  Like: concentrate on multiple things at once, listen to music because loud noises wreck me, or work in an office because the glow of the monitor drives my brain crazy, too. So I should just forget about photography, because I won’t be able to retouch or do post-production either. I can’t do physical labour due to spinal pain, and I should forget about mental work because of the headaches??? And I shouldn’t even dream about running. Then, I ask you, what the hell am I going to do, and how?! The heightened sensitivity to light, noise, and smells caused by the blow to my head felt like it was driving me insane. ‘How can anyone live like this?’ - I asked myself on a daily basis. 

For me, the answer lay in going against everything and everyone that stood in my way. I said: JUST WATCH ME! I’m going to do exactly what they say I’m incapable of doing. I took a job at a production office in West London, where 7 phones rang at once, while I had to constantly reply to incoming emails, handle my share of the calls, all while 10+ people were shouting in chorus over my head and music blared from the radio non-stop. Yes, it would drive even a ‘normal’ person crazy. I stood my ground and never complained. No one knew what had happened to me, because I never told anyone. And the reason I left wasn’t the nature of the work—which I actually loved—but rather human factors that made me bid farewell to that company, only to push my boundaries even further in an even more stressful work environment in the financial sector.

I feel like I’m still only scratching the surface of who I really am. Or, more accurately, who I’ve become, and what I’m capable of, because that collision overwrote my entire life up to that point.
So, the streets aren’t paved with gold in England either, because the system failed me. It let a criminal known to the police go on living his life freely, without any accountability whatsoever, despite committing a road traffic offence causing grievous bodily harm.

Fifth part is coming tomorrow. Thank you for reading me 🤍

Part 3: Fragments - I won’t detail my ordeal of going from doctor to doctor here and now. It would be endlessly long a...
21/02/2026

Part 3: Fragments - I won’t detail my ordeal of going from doctor to doctor here and now. It would be endlessly long and painful. This was my every day for two and a half years. As a result of the incident, my attention span dropped to under 1 minute. Yes. 1 minute. That’s how long I could focus on anything before I was hit by head cramps so severe that everything in my head literally fell apart. Over the course of about 3 months, I managed to push this up to 60 minutes, and then my condition stayed stuck on this plateau for a long time. I was terrified: what if I stay like this forever?

The almost unbearable pain in my spine led me to an outstanding spinal specialist. I had already met one of London’s most renowned experts through my running past. He welcomed me with a huge smile and greeted me like an old friend. He had no idea why I was there. He thought I was struggling with another sports injury. I showed him the video that captured the hit-and-run. He literally almost fell off his chair. He was genuinely shaken; it was undeniable. He took a deep breath, turned to me, and said: ‘Noa, I don’t know how you are talking, moving, or walking around here in front of me, because people don’t really walk away from traumas of this nature.’ (Judging by his words, I should have died or at least ended up paralysed. He phrased it delicately though). He said: ‘Listen to me! If anyone in your life ever refuses to take you seriously, show them this video, and they will bow their heads to you. I am doing so right now.’

After 2.5 years, I was still suffering from symptoms that severely degraded my quality of life. The neurologist said the very thing I was dreading. The injury had caused permanent damage, and they called it by its proper name: I had become handicapped, meaning restricted. Now, this was the point where I gave the middle finger to the whole world. I said NO. At 40 years old, I refuse to accept this, to settle for it, to swallow it. I didn’t allow myself the option to lean back and say, ‘alright then, there are things I won’t be able to do anymore.’

Fourth part is coming tomorrow due to the space limitation of Instagram.

Part 2 - Identity 🫆 - Who am I …, who have I become? - I have no memories from the shop until the moment of the crash; i...
20/02/2026

Part 2 - Identity 🫆 - Who am I …, who have I become? - I have no memories from the shop until the moment of the crash; it must have been a 15-20 minute ride. Those images and moments are lost somewhere, but the sensation of the impact burned itself into my brain. I actually had no idea what was happening to me, but I knew for certain that something was very wrong. I perceived sounds like when the tape of an 80s or 90s cassette got jammed, stretching the audio out like chewing gum. They were distorted, and I remember thinking, ‘what a weird song,’ followed immediately by the realisation: ‘hey! I’m not even listening to music! So what the hell is this?!’ The tape in my brain’s hard drive had jammed…

The car came out of nowhere, and just as a bullet tears into human flesh, it slammed into me and launched me into the air. From mid-air, I smashed onto the bonnet, and from there onto the asphalt. My life up until that point disappeared into nothingness in a fraction of a second. I never truly wanted to be here in this world, but right there and then, somehow I wanted to live more than anything. I felt that I was in deep trouble. There was an agonizing, frantic pain raging in my head that I couldn’t possibly put into words.
A young man appeared, and as he looked down at me with concerned eyes, he said: ‘Everything is going to be alright!’ I asked him what had happened, and he replied: “You were hit by a car.” I asked where the driver was, and he said they had left, they didn’t stop…

My Mum instantly came to mind: ‘I absolutely cannot die, because I can’t do this to her! And under no circumstances can she find out about this over the phone. I wouldn’t be able to hold her hand… comfort her… she has asthma… she’d get sick… she wouldn’t be able to breathe…. No, no, she cannot find out about this under any circumstances.’ For 3 months, I tried to convince her every day that I was fine, and every day she knew it wasn’t true. She felt that something was wrong. In May, I finally managed to travel home from England. I told her. She threw up. Literally.

Third part is coming tomorrow due to the space limitation of Instagram.

Another year has passed. Now it’s the seventh. I wrote the lines below last year, but for some reason, I couldn’t bring ...
19/02/2026

Another year has passed. Now it’s the seventh. I wrote the lines below last year, but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to share them. Now, however, I want to. Why? I don’t know. But I’m leaving them here now, and I entrust their fate to you.

19.02.2025. – Today I am six years old. Yes, I might look a ‘little’ older, but I’m still celebrating my sixth birthday today. I lived a life for 37 years that vanished into nothingness in a fraction of a second on the 19th of February, 2019.

The sun was shining, and millions of thoughts raced through my mind as I hopped on my bike that morning and glided down the familiar streets of East London.
After arriving, I went through the motions mechanically, doing what I had to do. It seemed like an insignificant day. The silence felt good. How could I have known that it was only a matter of hours before my life would change forever… that who I was would vanish into the void in the blink of an eye… I had no bad premonitions… Perhaps this is what the calm before the storm is like… when the sky is so smooth, and not even a breeze stirs… Then, suddenly, a massive gust of wind comes, hurling leaves high into the air with gargantuan force… stirring up the dust on the road… you squint and hear the tiny grains of grit crunching between your teeth…

Sipping my tea, I went through my post, and after confirming that nothing out of the ordinary had arrived, I sat in the silence a little longer. Then, with a concrete plan in mind, I locked the door to my flat, got back on my bike, and set off, completely unaware that no matter how simple and mundane my plan was, it would never happen. I rolled down the hill and headed towards the local supermarket. I loved that shop. I bought everything I needed: potatoes, chicken breast, some vegetables, and other bits and bobs I can no longer remember. I carefully stuffed everything into my backpack, having no idea that in less than 20 minutes, this bag and the groceries packed inside it would act as a makeshift airbag, literally exploding on my back from the force of the impact, saving my spine from total catastrophe.

The post continues in the pinned comment box below: ⬇️⬇️⬇️

Longing for spring …In this darkness of winter even my thoughts are blocked. It’s hard to imagine that soon the world is...
10/02/2026

Longing for spring …
In this darkness of winter even my thoughts are blocked. It’s hard to imagine that soon the world is going to be colourful again.
Earlier today as I was photographing wilting flowers, I was dreaming about blossoming trees, the smell of freshly cut grass and sunshine.
What are you daydreaming about?





Where Light and Shadow meets … 🖤💛In the darkest and coldest winter my little objects keep me occupied. My interest turne...
06/02/2026

Where Light and Shadow meets … 🖤💛
In the darkest and coldest winter my little objects keep me occupied. My interest turned towards still life during the lockdown of the pandemic. Finding beauty and magic in ordinary things kept me sane and going. Since then my objects gained new value. They are no longer just objects. They are memories, stories, feelings and I impressions.
They are the most amazing subjects as they are always available and never disappoint me 💕





Garlic skin 🧄 Its beautiful and delicate details have been an inspiration for me for quite sometime, but for some reason...
02/02/2026

Garlic skin 🧄
Its beautiful and delicate details have been an inspiration for me for quite sometime, but for some reason I have never photographed garlic before.
I normally prefer shooting in daylight, but this winter being so dark, I’ve decided to get out of my comfort zone and to create cosy images that somehow reflect back the moodiness of the season.
I never would have thought that it is possible to enjoy shooting in the dark. But as it turns out I love the quiet and calm atmosphere of the evenings, and I find it so therapeutic when I compose my little set ups in the dark.
Sometimes it actually feels like I’m rather painting as the colours and textures so nicely blend together, and the images have some sort of smoothness to them.
So far winter seems never ending and this project keeps my creative side occupied.
What do you work on currently? How do you keep yourself inspired during wintertime?
Have a great week Everybody x





Skeleton leaf 🍁 When I was in college studying photography, I went through a phase when I was obsessed with these skelet...
26/01/2026

Skeleton leaf 🍁 
When I was in college studying photography, I went through a phase when I was obsessed with these skeleton leaves. 
Skeleton leaves are formed in nature through a natural process of decomposition where the soft, green tissues break down, and only the durable, fibrous veins remain. This is a delicate, lace-like structure that I find so beautiful. 
My aim for January was to take a photo every single day, but I had to realise that I just cannot work that way. I need time for my creative mind to rest and reset. What I create matters to me. I don’t want to shoot just for the sake of shooting. I want to take photos that mean something to me. 
I want to create for joy not for ticking a box each day. I guess this is part of getting to know myself. All through my life I wanted to be someone else and I wanted to please everyone around me. Now I just want to be ME. I still want to be a decent human and to be good to others of course, but I don’t allow myself to lose ME in the process. 
Why do you create? 
Have a great week All.
With love, Noa x





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