The Defining Decade

Kateryna Vodolazka

Mixed Media

70 x 90 cm

This painting is chaotic. I named it “Defining Decade” (70x90). This is the first time I used threads and dried plants on the canvas, elements that represent the tangled complexity of my life and context. The idea behind it is simple yet complex. There’s a book with the same name that suggests everything you should know when you’re in your 20s. But as I reflected on my defining decade, I realized it’s shaped by so much more than just my personal decisions. My 20s are shaped by my national history, the local history of the Donbass region, my family’s history, and the personal struggles of every family member who came before me. Oksana Zabuzhko’s writing enriched my understanding of how deeply national and generational traumas affect even the smallest aspects of daily life. One of the easiest for understanding examples - the relationship with food and eating disorders can be traced back to the trauma of Holodomor, where survival depended on having food at any cost. The fear of hunger planted in earlier generations lives on in the subconsciousness of those who never healed that trauma. This is why I included a piece of corn plant on my canvas: it symbolizes those inherited fears and how they still manifest today. The painting is divided into squares, each reflecting a layer of story: • The top left square depicts the Donbass region, a mix of memories and political realities. There’s a statue of Artem from Sviatohirsk National Park—a Soviet mass murderer absurdly memorialized and valued near a religious site tied to another example of embodiment of darkness - Russian Orthodox Church. Surrounding this are terricons and familiar building for locals. This square represents the years of Russification, artificial famines, and Soviet oppression that left the region traumatized and disconnected from any national identity. The result is people who live by the principle “моя хата с краю” (my house is on the edge) and are afraid to act in their own interest—a survival mechanism after decades of oppression. • The middle right square shows “the family” in our old living room. These shadowy, ghost-like figures don’t represent specific people but the collective weight of generational trauma. It reflects how my family’s responses—like not supporting my job changes or self-expression—are often driven by inherited fears. It’s not really them speaking; it’s the voice of trauma. • The bottom right square represents my current life, divided into three windows. One shows my interest in sports teaching, another depicts my corporate career, and the third reflects my artist path. I haven’t fully chosen between the corporate and art paths. In this square, there’s also a small figure of me holding a banner, representing my passion for women’s rights. At the center of it all stands a nude figure of myself, exposed and vulnerable. This central figure ties together the threads of national, local, familial, and personal contexts. It’s a reminder that these layers don’t just shape me—they shape every person I meet. This painting is about navigating those contexts, both within myself and in others. It’s about realizing that every person you meet carries their own tangled web of history, trauma, and influences. Think about that next time you meet someone.