Homesick

I am a Ukrainian photographer who lived through Russian occupation and later became a displaced person in the UK. Homesick is a personal project about childhood, parenthood, and trying to preserve the feeling of home during war and forced departure.

Homesick is a family memory of living through two weeks of war in Ukraine, when home was no longer safe, but leaving it felt impossible because we did not know if we would ever be able to return.
The photographs speak about childhood and parenthood during war, about being afraid while trying not to show that fear to children, and about holding on to hope that everything will end soon. During this time, everyday routines became a way to protect our children’s sense of home, playing, brushing teeth, keeping small habits, so they would remember it as a safe place.
When evacuation finally became possible, leaving felt like saying a last goodbye to everything we had. The project was later developed while I was living in safety in the UK as a displaced person, when the feeling of homesickness became overwhelming. The work reflects on home as something deeply missed, carried in memory rather than returned to.

© Ira Sozanska - Image from the Homesick photography project
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A quiet street after people have left. A cat escapes from an empty house, searching for food, marking the absence of everyday life.

© Ira Sozanska - Image from the Homesick photography project
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Children stand behind a taped glass door. Home becomes a place of waiting, where parents try to hide fear and protect childhood from what is happening outside.

© Ira Sozanska - Bags wait by the door. Leaving home is anticipated but delayed, suspended between hope, fear, and the unknown.
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Bags wait by the door. Leaving home is anticipated but delayed, suspended between hope, fear, and the unknown.

© Ira Sozanska - A generator keeps the house warm during power cuts. It offers comfort, but its noise brings danger closer.
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A generator keeps the house warm during power cuts. It offers comfort, but its noise brings danger closer.

© Ira Sozanska - My son plays in the yard. Home is no longer safe, and we do not know if we will be here again.
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My son plays in the yard. Home is no longer safe, and we do not know if we will be here again.

© Ira Sozanska - Image from the Homesick photography project
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Cars move slowly along an evacuation route. Displacement begins before certainty, carrying the weight of what may never be returned to.

© Ira Sozanska - Laundry dries in the yard. A small domestic gesture that holds hope and the feeling of still being at home.
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Laundry dries in the yard. A small domestic gesture that holds hope and the feeling of still being at home.

© Ira Sozanska - A moment of childhood calm. Even during war, children continue to play, while the meaning of home quietly shifts.
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A moment of childhood calm. Even during war, children continue to play, while the meaning of home quietly shifts.

© Ira Sozanska - Image from the Homesick photography project
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My daughter steps through the doorway. Leaving happens in fragments, as home slowly turns from a place into something carried.

© Ira Sozanska - My son brushes his teeth during an unstable morning. Routine becomes a way of preserving normality and safety for children.
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My son brushes his teeth during an unstable morning. Routine becomes a way of preserving normality and safety for children.

Homesick by Ira Sozanska

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