About me

Born and raised in Ukraine, Sofiia is now residing in California. Her art in this season is a direct reflection of the continuous war in Ukraine. Sofiia explores themes of identity and memories, feelings of guilt for being safe, and the need to still keep on being a voice of events otherwise quickly forgotten. Her faith is challenged by the events in the world, and the work is an honest, fragile contemplation and lament over the people of Ukraine and their fate.

Bent, not Broken – Series Statement

When the peak of action dies out, when news headlines move on to a hotter topic, what is left? The quiet fight for survival, the misery of everyday, and the resilience that sparks hope. Maybe some regions are not in an active war zone like my hometown, yet the life there is not a candylane. Severe winter, limited power to a few hours a day, difficulty with gas supply, and uncertainty in basic life aspects. Life goes on in unpredictable and weird ways, different from before, yet somehow still with a place for faith, humor, small joys, and an undeniable will to endure. That inspires me, and also makes me feel spoiled to be away from it all. I am amazed by my people, and this story series is a small response to the new realities of Ukrainian people, those who are there, and us who migrated.

The war sparked my own contemplations and identity search of who can be called true Ukrainian? Are those of us who are no longer physically there, or maybe the ones who still speak Russian, considered to be called Ukrainian? What if my mom is from Russia and my dad is from Western Ukraine? Who am I then? What if my husband is from Egypt and I live in California? Who am I then? These are the questions many of us have, and this series investigates some of the answers. The before and afters, connections, and attitudes that unfold our heritage and make us who we are. 

I use watercolor and shadow boxes, adding layers of meaning and trying to grasp the tangible presence of past and present. As I cut out the paper and add myself into the picture, places I am no longer able to visit, I am reminded of times I was there and things that no longer are the way they used to be. Even though the world seems to be forgetting and moving on with its course, this story is important, and I am privileged to be able to share and preserve it, because remembering, as Susan Sontag states, is an ethical act in itself.