Dreams of something familiar and spiritual travels beyond the horizon of memory events, solar storms and supernova explosions, the sound of people and adventures, the mess of pixels around and every second changing timbre of the day — all of this worries me, and I try to express my emotion through the vibrations of paint on canvas. In this, I am extremely honest towards any particular moment, allowing it to fully reveal its potential and reciprocate with time.
All my work symbolizes an escape from the dictatorship of everyday life routine, government, corporations, and time itself. A moment on the canvas is like an entry in the register of eternity, confirming that I was there.
The works offer a momentary narrative for solving the suffocating problem of the tyranny of limited spaces - to prevent the world's callousness. To complete the picture you should add to this the avoidance of personality problems, disappointment with the dictate of the times, general protest against any form of violence, avoidance of childhood memories, in the combination of Russia in the 90s, with torn muscles from fleeing from the dictatorship. Now, our unconscious brings to mind vivid dreams symbolizing the pathos of wandering translation metaphors of the moment into a realized universe of impressions. A bizarre act of honesty in regard to world-time and, in general, to the world space in which we are all now.
I try to translate paints and a brush into a palette of intrapsychic experiences: I start from impressions from dreams, as well as from the colorfulness of sounds, emotions, objects and feelings, and their layers and combinations. For me, the reading of the moment, when any and all immediate meanings and solutions coexist: colors are peppered with layers of shapes, lines of meaning, tempting us to shift our concept of them around, whether via the Turing test, Sondhi, or Rorschach. Every day, the illusion of time advances, bringing with it a new meaning for me.
Unlocking the potential of the moment. The problem of avoiding the dictate of time. Time is a brushstroke hidden behind the illusion of time. The brush can withstand both intense psychological trauma and the routine of everyday life. I'm tracing the outline of a new road.