Residenttien vieraskirja: Iryna Deremed-Tymoshenko

Coming here from loud, crowded Kyiv was a real shock for my nervous system. Just yesterday the city was filled with sirens and explosions, and today the silence felt so strong it almost hurt my ears. The hardest part during the first days was shifting from the constant rhythm of running and urgency to slowness.

The nature of the city helped a lot with this transition. Lakes, parks, and so much greenery all around had a deeply therapeutic effect. The people who were also staying in the house supported me greatly during those first days. Walks in the park and conversations about our manuscripts gave me strength, while silent mornings with coffee brought a quiet sense of confidence and inspiration.

I am grateful for the opportunity to introduce local residents to my work and to share my personal experience of living through war. I wasn’t truly ready for the public reading — I realised that only later. Exhaustion, fear, and constant worry for my family who stayed at home overwhelmed me, especially while reading the excerpt. But the words of support I received from the audience truly mattered and had a healing effect.

Along with the unfamiliar silence, I was given my own working space and enough time for writing and reflection. I could walk around the city, observe the architecture, search for and discover caves that even some locals didn’t know about, listen to fragments of conversations in the park, and admire the physical activity and vitality of people around me.

During the first weeks, I couldn’t write at all. I would open my manuscript and freeze — everything in it screamed of pain and loss. After all, it describes nights spent with my children sitting in hallway during air raids, fear for the future, and despair.

However, I spent a lot of time with another writer who was also working with her country’s war experience. She gently asked me about bodily sensations, emotions, inner states — about what it actually feels like to live during a war. She needed this to bring her own characters to life, and in doing so, she helped me return to my manuscript. I began adding depth to my characters’ emotions, sometimes deliberately pressing harder to evoke a response in the reader. Most importantly, I learned to see my text differently. What once felt “normal” — night attacks followed by early mornings and work — now appeared clearly as something deeply abnormal. These years have profoundly changed our perception of life and forced me to reflect on what truly matters.

I also discovered a cave and beautiful small houses near the lake that perfectly fit the concept of my next manuscript. Until now, I had struggled to begin working on it due to a lack of tangible, lived experience. Here, I finally felt ready to return to that work.

It is very special to be in a place that offers support while also respecting personal space, without pressure. I deeply appreciated the willingness to help with adaptation, including connecting me with local Ukrainians. When I asked to organise meetings for Ukrainians in the house, I was gladly supported, and to my delight, these gatherings slowly became a small tradition during cold winter evenings.

And winter itself deserves a mention. Ukraine hasn’t seen winters like this for a long time (with the exception of this year, as it turned out). I had almost forgotten what such an abundance of snow looks like. Watching snowfall, walking on a frozen lake, and catching snowflakes with my mouth brought me back to childhood — a simple and precious joy.

I am grateful to myself for agreeing to this adventure. Packing my life within a week to leave the country for three months during wartime, hoping to finally bring my manuscript to completion, was not an easy decision. Yet I truly fell in love with this city. I would happily return here with my children in spring or summer, to see how it looks in bloom.

I am deeply thankful to the Writers’ House for welcoming me so warmly, for offering shelter and a space to work during a very difficult time in my life.

Iryna Deremed-Tymoshenko