What did you do before February 24, 2022?
—I am an illustrator, and I worked remotely for a foreign company. Occasionally, I took on additional illustration orders. In general, I had a normal, relatively uneventful life.
Did you think that an invasion might begin? Did you prepare for it?
—I am a very anxious person. I used to try to avoid the news as much as possible and stay in my own bubble. Only in this state was it easy and comfortable for me to create, draw, and live my life. However, in early February, even my bubble began to burst due to disappointing predictions about an escalation. It scared me, but because I was not well aware of the global situation and what was happening not only between Ukraine and Russia but also in the world, I couldn’t believe that such a thing was possible in the 21st century. It seemed that stories about war belonged in history books.
I had planned to gather a survival kit on February 24, but I didn’t have time. Later, I talked to my friends; some admitted that they had been ready since January. I told them, “What, you aren’t my friends? Why didn’t you say, ‘Valia, start packing’?”
What was February 24 and the following days like For you?
— On February 24, I woke up in Kyiv because I heard something that sounded like a whistle. I live near a construction site, so I always blame strange noises on them. I thought, “No, I need to go back to sleep, it’s still early.” I went back to bed, but then I felt strong anxiety, though I didn’t know where it came from. I couldn’t sleep, so I went to wash my face and heard explosions. I realized this wasn’t from the construction site. I had been so “isolated” that only then did I start looking for Telegram channels about news in Ukraine because I hadn’t followed anything like that before. I saw that explosions were happening everywhere.
My sister called me and said, “Pack your things, we’re picking you up.” Our parents decided to stay in Kyiv. Shocked, with trembling hands, I began to pack — everything seemed so unnecessary that I took only a few things. My sister lives in the center, and I’m on the outskirts. I waited for her for about 1.5 hours on the way out of Kyiv. During that time, I saw people walking with cats and dogs in their arms, carrying suitcases, bags, and backpacks. The traffic was unreal. I stood there and thought that if I were killed here, it would be sad. Then we had a sleepless day-long journey to the west of Ukraine.
Are you still in the west of Ukraine?
— I came back after 1.5 months. I celebrated Easter with my parents. Living after the evacuation was difficult. There were ten of us living in a house not designed for such a large number of people. I had no private space. It was also difficult because of the feeling of uncertainty. There was a constant expectation that things would become easier and better and that it would be possible to return, but time passed, and it did not become “easier and better.” I caught myself thinking that I didn’t feel like myself there. I decided that I would rather spend my days in my own apartment than exhaust myself with this anxiety for an indeterminate amount of time.
Was it more difficult to draw at that time, or did it, on the contrary, calm you down?
For the first week, I couldn’t do anything except monitor the news and talk to my relatives. I experienced what felt like “survivor’s guilt” — I couldn’t allow myself to be happy, enjoy life, or create.
For me, creating art isn’t just a part of life; it’s a privilege.
It requires specific conditions: calmness, atmosphere, good lighting, and access to electricity.
Then I noticed that Ukrainian illustrators had shifted from extreme stress to a more manageable level of stress. They began to channel their experiences into their work. I realized that I might have misunderstood my role as a creator and my ability to convey messages visually. Since I have the opportunity to create and am not in occupied territories, I decided to use my resources and started painting again.
When did you return to the main job?
— I returned to work two weeks after the start of the full-scale war. It felt like dealing with bipolar disorder. I had a project related to the hotel industry, with clients from abroad, focused on creating fun, beautiful, and idyllic illustrations. I was tasked with drawing scenes of happy family holidays while a war was ongoing in Ukraine. It was challenging to balance this work with my desire to express my own views or depict the tragic reality of the situation.
The ninth month of a full-scale war is already underway. How does it affect creativity?
— When I returned to Kyiv, I began to calm down and reflect on what was most important to me. I realized that taking care of my mental health was paramount, and I decided that work was no longer a priority, so I quit. I focused on adding more joy to my life than before. This approach helped me navigate through work burnout and the stress of the war. For several months, I didn’t create anything at all. The volume of emotions and the layering of tragic events made it incredibly difficult. Some people become more active, hyper-creative, and productive in stressful times, but that wasn’t my experience. I only returned to painting in September.
Have you seen any reactions to your work? Have there been any reactions or offers from abroad?
— I received the most support from friends. Knowing my delicate nature, they understood how important drawing is to me and were pleased to see me create again. I received collaboration offers from Ukrainian volunteering and charitable organizations, but none from abroad. However, foreign illustrators reached out to check on me and offer their help. It was heartening to see that people I admire understand and share my worldview and want to support me in some way.
What, in your opinion, is the role of art in the war?
— Working as an illustrator is one of those professions that people might think they can live without in times of crisis. During such moments, people often focus solely on essentials like food, health, and safety, and it might seem that art has little relevance. However, for me, my creative activity actually intensified and flourished. I continued working during both the quarantine and the war, and I came to realize how much I had underestimated the importance of art and creativity.
Art is crucial because creative individuals are highly attuned to their surroundings and possess the tools to convey complex emotions and experiences through various formats. For those without creative abilities, engaging with art—whether through visual works, music, or videos—can help connect their emotions with what the creator expresses. This connection can alleviate inner tension and provide a sense of solidarity, helping people feel less alone. Currently, Ukraine is seeing numerous initiatives aimed at using creativity to support and assist people in these challenging times.
The best thing each of us can do is to use our strengths and contribute where we are most effective.
It’s unlikely that I would be of much use if I, for example, worked in a factory. The support for creativity during wartime has demonstrated that art and creative work are valuable even in such dire circumstances.
Original version published on October 27, 2022 in collaboration with Online media outlet Svidomi.