My painting is a search for a visual formula for shelter. My artistic practice is the creation and evolution of my home: from finding a foothold in the outside world to creating an inner refuge. I view home not as a geographical location, but as an internal space, a space a person constructs within themselves from memories, familiar objects, and layers of time lived.

The snail (an ancient ammonite) has become my primary symbol and totem of this search. It embodies the idea of ​​the ideal shelter: a leisurely, thoughtful creature that carries with it all that is most precious, its memories, and its home. Its shell is a mobile place of power, allowing one to isolate oneself from external chaos at any moment and retreat into a space of inner silence.

My path to this form evolved in stages:

External World and Structure: In monochrome cityscapes and botanical flower series, I explored the boundaries of protective space. A glimpse from the depths of the courtyard-well onto the cloud-covered sky was the first attempt to grasp the shape of the outer "shell."

Materiality and Tangibility: In the "Fossilized Time" series, my key visual language was formed—the contrast between a smooth, dissolving background and a sculptural, pasty impasto—a tactile painting, a binary of textures. Stones washed ashore and dry trees became physical anchors for memory.

Memory and Comfort: In the "Vinaigrette" series, the material world finally became the guardian of the home. Everyday root vegetables and household objects, painted with a palette knife on a matte black background, became monumental artifacts of familial warmth.
In future works, the spiral of a snail shell encapsulates this experience into a single visual sign. In its coils, the architecture of the twisted courtyard-well, the texture of the coastal stones, the threads of everyday life, and the density of objects are united into a universal geometry of protection.