My work explores beauty, memory, and belonging—shaped by personal loss, spiritual seeking, and movement across cultural geographies. I was born and raised in Moscow, under the weight of Soviet ideology, and came of age over two transformative decades in New York City. Architecture became my emotional and visual language—a way of making sense of time, transformation, and identity. From the monolithic forms of Soviet Brutalism to the fluid lines of contemporary design, built environments revealed systems of belief that left lasting impressions on my imagination.

Grief is a quiet thread in my practice. The death of my mother during my formative years profoundly altered my perception of the world. She cherished wildflowers—those unruly, uncultivated blooms that often go unnoticed. “If you can love the wildflowers,” she once told me, “you can love everyone.” That ethos continues to shape my work. I’m drawn to the humble, the ephemeral, and the cast-aside. Nature offers both refuge and revelation—pointing me toward the spiritual and reminding me of our shared impermanence.

I create across painting, sculpture, and installation, often working with materials that embody tension and transformation. Cast cement, glass, and light intersect with hand-painted surfaces, domestic objects, and natural elements. I’m interested in the meeting point between the permanent and the decaying, the functional and the transcendent, the synthetic and the organic. These contrasts become portals into slowness, attention, and deeper presence.

Art, for me, is a meditative practice—one grounded in stillness, gratitude, and the act of looking closely. I seek to make spaces that invite viewers to pause and reconnect—with themselves and the living world around them. My influences include Hilma af Klint’s metaphysical lens on the natural world, Sarah Sze’s cosmologies built from everyday residue and cultural artifacts, and Suzanne Anker’s engagement with urgent ecological concerns through beauty and visual poetics. I also draw inspiration from ancient mythologies and the speculative language of bio-art, approaching ecology as both metaphor and matter.

At its core, my practice asks how we metabolize experience—how we carry loss, seek meaning, and rediscover wonder in the quiet, overlooked spaces of daily life. In the remnants of what’s discarded, I look for the sacred. In nature’s wild grammar, I find my most honest language.