Mother Love

This work is about my mother and me — about a bond that cannot be broken. About love — deep, contradictory, yet always alive.

The image emerged after another quarrel between us. I realized that love speaks a different language for everyone — and even if we don’t always understand each other,
we still hold hands.

The flowers here are not only a symbol of life, care, and growth. They also have thorns — a reminder that closeness never comes without pain.
In them intertwine danger and protection, tenderness and strength.

This painting is my way of saying ‘thank you’.
For life. For love. For the fact that, through time, we continue to grow together.

This work was born from a memory of my trip to Japan.
My partner and I went to an onsen — a hot spring under the open sky. Whole apples floated in the steaming water, filling the air with a sweet aroma.

I wanted to capture not just the memory, but the feeling itself — sensitive, trembling, incredibly tender.

The colors here are not accidental:
in Japan, men’s and women’s zones are marked in blue and red.
I used them as symbols of two energies — masculine and feminine — that meet, intertwine, and create harmony.

For me, this piece is about the very nature of connection — how love makes us whole.
And how, within it, endless tenderness is born.

The female body, to me, is not only lines and forms — it holds entire stories.
These works were born from observation and sensation: inspired by women I’ve known personally, and by those I’ve never met, yet felt their strength and beauty through books, films, and photographs.

This series became a meditation — a way to reconnect with myself and the deep essence of feminine nature.
Here, I explore its multiplicity: softness and strength, tenderness and courage, vulnerability and audacity.

Each piece was created intuitively: I let my hand find its own lines, focusing on the feeling of womanhood.
Thus emerged silhouettes that appear both familiar and abstract — like memories or dreams, where the essence is felt more vividly than the details.

This textile piece was conceived as a talisman — a keeper of shared family moments.

The main source of inspiration for this work was nature itself. The fabric is woven from delicate twigs, into which I embroidered a depiction of a family table: four plates, cutlery, food, and a bouquet of flowers.
The sketches I created were completed by a four-year-old girl — the daughter of my friends. I wanted her innocent lines to fill the piece with sincerity and a sense of life.

Over time, the object found its home — with a family for whom shared meals are a ritual of closeness and presence. It now lives with them, accompanying their everyday gatherings and becoming a part of their shared space.

Portrait — A Mirror in Both Directions.
A person can touch something deeply intimate by seeing their own soul through another’s eyes. And I — my own evolution.

Over several years, I’ve returned to portraiture as a way of studying both others and myself. Gradually, this practice brought together different faces, techniques, and formats into a single project — not just a gallery of images, but a diary of my artistic formation.

In my early works, I sought likeness and precision; later — to express emotions and sensations; and eventually — to find a more complete image that merges my experience, my gaze, and the inner world of the person before me.

This project became a story of growth — where each portrait is a step toward self-understanding and a deeper connection with another.

This object is an ode to unity — a kiss.
A moment when two souls and bodies come so close that the line between ‘I' and ‘you' disappears.
In the abstract shapes and flowing lines, that intimacy and tenderness are hidden.
It was important for me to weave such delicate feelings into an everyday object — so that love and art could live side by side.
This table became that bridge: both a utilitarian object and a quiet symbol of closeness.
It was born by chance — from a few cut-out shapes that suddenly came together like a mosaic.
As if life itself whispered the form.
Moments like this remind me that beauty often emerges from simplicity and play.

This series brings together my sketchbooks created over the years.
Sketching, for me, is a way to observe and experience life — to preserve fleeting moments: faces, objects, the atmosphere of places, or images born from imagination.

It’s also a symbol of discipline: a daily practice that, step by step, shapes the hand, trains the eye, and enriches artistic experience.