ukraine: 84 posts

A few days ago, I had the privilege of visiting a very special place in Kyiv, Ukraine, a children’s art school that offers free lessons to young people affected by war. This school is much more than a classroom. It’s a sanctuary where children can paint, draw, sculpt, and express themselves freely. It’s a space where they can be children again.

When I arrived, I was greeted by the school’s director, teachers, and students with warmth and openness. Inside, the rooms were bright and alive with creativity. Paintings of fantastical creatures—dragons, mermaids—hung alongside delicate studies of flowers and landscapes. There was joy in these works, and courage too.

Thanks to your generous donations, I was able to collect funds and purchase much-needed art supplies such as paints, brushes, pencils, and sketchbooks. I made several shipments over the past months, but this visit was the first time I saw the children using them. It was deeply moving to witness how these simple tools became a means of expression, hope, and even healing.

Your contribution makes a difference: To Donate in USD. To Donate in EUR.
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Day 1 in Ukraine. I arrived in a city filled with flowers, sunshine—and acrid smoke. Another bombardment occurred last night. When I woke up in the morning, it was such a splendid spring day that it was difficult to believe in death and horror. Saturday was March 8th, International Women’s Day, and flower stands lined the streets. People queued to buy flowers, and every other woman I passed carried a bouquet of tulips. The smoke from the smoldering ruins darkened the skies, and the acrid smell clung to the flowers, but life went on relentlessly.

I bought snowdrops from a grandmother and buried my face in their delicate petals. After a while, I noticed nothing but this soft, sweet fragrance. My friend gave me a bouquet of pink and white tulips, and throughout the day, I carried my flowers with me in defiance of despair and fear.

It may sound strange, but being in Ukraine makes me feel complete and at peace. This visit, in particular, is meaningful because I arrived with a clear idea of what I was going to do, who I wanted to see, and what I aimed to achieve.

Thanks to your generosity and support, I can prepare more shipments of art supplies for the Kyiv Children’s Art School. I work with local suppliers, looking for items that will support small local businesses and bring joy to the children. If you would like to contribute to this initiative, I would be grateful.

To Donate in USD. To Donate in EUR.

You can follow my journey via my Instagram. I will be posting updates from the Kyiv Children’s Art School there as well.

Above all, thank you for your support of Ukraine. You can’t imagine how much it means—to me, and to the people here.

Love,
Victoria

In the fall of 2024, I traveled east to the frontlines. As the city faded behind me and the bombed-out villages receded, all that remained were the bare fields of sunflowers. The headless stems stood tilted in different directions, reminiscent of a vast cemetery. And yet, this desolate landscape was illuminated by the occasional blooming flower that sprouted after the reaper had taken its harvest.

I keep thinking about flowers on the battlefields as I think about Ukraine. Ukraine has forged its identity through centuries of attempts by larger powers to erase it. And yet, it has always regenerated itself in one form or another. Borderland places have deep roots, nourished by multiple histories, strengthening their sense of self and enriching their culture.

My Ukraine Fundraiser

Still, it’s hard to avoid feeling despair and anger given the current situation. I’m channeling my energy into preparing for my trip to Ukraine and my fundraiser for Kyiv’s Children Art School. The school works with children traumatized by war and provides them with free art classes and a safe space. The money donated is converted into art supplies that children can use right away to learn new skills and heal.

If you’re interested in helping, your donation will be much appreciated. To Donate in USD. To Donate in EUR. If you’re interested to participate in my seminar on Ukrainian perfumery broadcast from Ukraine on March 14th, via Zoom, 12pm EST, the proceeds will go to the art school. To Join Seminar.

You can follow updates about my Ukrainian trip and fundraiser via my Instagram: @boisdejasmin

In the meantime, there are other ways in which you can help Ukraine.

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One of the first articles I had written for which I won an award for Editorial Excellence was titled Scents of Kyiv, a walk through my native city and a story of its scents. Returning to Ukraine, I keep cataloging aromas that I encounter during my travels–coffee and cigarettes in Lviv, poppyseed rolls and lindens in Poltava, expensive perfume and car exhaust in Kharkiv. So it was with much delight that I discovered a candle collection by Sofiya Dolna, an independent perfumer based in Ternopil, western Ukraine. Sofiya’s candle collection paints the olfactory portraits of three different Ukrainian regions–the south (Acacia Odesa), the east (Rosa Donbas), and the west (Cedr Gorgany). The scents are evocative. The presentation is gorgeous. The candles make a fantastic holiday gift. And yes, Sofiya ships her products all over the world–one of the best things about Ukraine is its amazing array of postal services.

The candle collection was developed a year ago in collaboration with two other artists, with each contributing their own interpretation of their native place.

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Uncle Vladimir, diadia Volodya, passed away in his sleep in his home in Israel. He was in his 80s. He fell ill with polio when he was a child during WWII. The first doctor he ever saw, a German surgeon in another occupied village, told my grandmother that her son was as good as dead. “Just leave him here.” My grandmother was exhausted after a long journey and her own illness and at first she did. She put her child on a bench and started walking away. Volodya remembers seeing her leave. He didn’t cry. He didn’t call out to his mother. He just held his breath. My grandmother had already lost one son to a fatal disease. Her sister was shot in front of her by the Nazi troops. She remembered feeling nothing but numbness and complete depletion. She walked and walked and then she turned around and ran back to the bench. She picked up her son and returned to the village.

Volodya didn’t die. He survived polio with almost all of his muscles atrophied and his spine twisted. He spent his childhood and teenage years in a wheelchair. Then a friend gave him a bootleg copy of a yoga manual and my uncle studied it until the book fell apart and he stood up on his own. He never learned to walk straight and he never regained control of his right arm, but he enrolled into the university, learned engineering on his own and built his own sound-recording devices. He married and fathered a daughter, my cousin Marina, who eventually moved him to Israel.

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