an orb

If there is a case about my art, it is individualism. I am an individual interested in individual emotions, and in individuals in the process of experiencing them.

This painting is derived from a family member’s photo album. I see it as an iconic image. It represents an intersection of dreams and fantasies stewed from the oldest fairytales and spiced with the newest pop culture.  Where is an individual in that thick concoction? Look for it in the emotional putdown. Colors and textures seem to be an obvious expression of sensual. These painting’s colors, textures and ambiguity are all condensed to one shiny greenish orb in the girl’s hand taking place of the bridal bouquet. It contains her dreams and emotions spinning and dormant. I stirred them with my brush.        

adam and eve at last

When I posted it on FB the facial recognition app got it right. Protagonists liked it too. So it’s official now. I can be proud. I am proud. Good night.

adam and eve, a couple in love

This painting has a story. I little social story, I would say. First off, I painted it with the purpose. It is funny already because when it comes to art, the name of the game, as I understand it, is vanity. But my purpose was vane, too - a gift to my dear friends and relatives in Moscow, a couple in love. This is where the “bzzz” usually occurs; meaning that painting with the back thought of pleasing others is not a good idea.  Anyway, the result turned out to be surprising. I went to school too, you know, not for painting per say, but for architecture, and therefore learned a “good taste”. This painting defies it, I admit. I posted it on FB, as usual, and one of my former classmates commented, “SHIT!!!” I thanked him for honesty, and he replied, ‘U G L Y ! ! !” 

And then I received a private message from the protagonists of this painting asking me to remove it from the public domain. Their acquaintances started asking them questions about the status of their relationships… 

This story convinces me that the painting is worthy of public attention; meaning yours

a reciprocal love

I don’t want to be studied; I want to be loved. In this little world of ours the ways a person can be perceived publically are limited to social, political or economic issues, to mass entertainments, and to the subjects of scientific studies. The golden age of audiences gathering in candle light to appreciate artists by opening personally to their art for the sole purpose of reflection has gone. As an artist who left behind her cradle culture, I am not an issue. I am just a lonely soul, whose inner echoes deafen the noises of the streets, but whose voice is swollen by them.  Everyone who can connect and reflect, I echo you, too. I love you in the solitude of my Cave studio, working on my images. I feel that there is a reciprocal love. It must be. Otherwise, what do I feel?