shadow, 2020

My shadow’s shedding skin – I’ve been picking scabs again
I’m down, digging through my old muscles looking for a clue

I’ve been crawling on my belly clearing out what could’ve been
I’ve been wallowing in my own confused and insecure delusions
For a piece to cross me over or a word to guide me in
I want to feel the changes coming down
I want to know what I’ve been hiding in my shadow

(42&2 – Tool)

shadow, 2020
pencils on paper, A5

my dark place alone, 2022

pencils and markers on paper, A4

I’ve lost everything I’ve got in one moment. Moving once again alone after 7 years of immigration in one more foreign country in hard corona’s brainfog and after one week starting to work 50 hours a week with a completely empty flat and broken heart. On the other hand, I’ve achieved my long-term dream. Is it what I wanted? If I’m good enough to be a pathologist? Did I trick all these people into thinking that I’m an okayish person? There is at least one person whose place I took, and she deserved it more. There were a lot of scary thoughts, and I was completely isolated not being able to talk about what I felt. There were enough people, even friends and family to talk about everything but it seemed so useless. How can you even dare to spill this darkness into anyone’s mind? Let them choose life. Go outside. Take a breath. Take a look at this blue sky. There is hope even if you don’t feel it right now. Keep going.

dictaphone diary note #1

Мне кажется, что русский язык – единственный, на котором я могу вот так свободно о чем-то говорить и что-то анализировать и не задумываться о том важно это или нет

как будто бы это способ выражать себя и речь, которую никто не может понять. Здесь и сейчас, и вообще я семь лет живу заграницей. Я чужак и никто не слышит мою речь.

Вы все слышите только семь лет подряд как я говорю на чужом языке некрасиво, с ошибками, так, что это раздражает ваш слух.

Возможно, это моё воображение

Мне всегда нравилось когда кто-то учит мой язык.

intense emotions in 2020

I’m in quarantine now because i finally have corona.

the first vaccination year ago was way more worse, than symptoms that i have, but I’m contagious so no business outside.

i feel like I’m supposed to write something about stuff happening in the world. The small red book with a photo that i possess doesn’t allow me to be visible or to use proper words without having an existential fear and inviting a rage storm on myself. I wish we weren’t ancient and could live in peace.

i try to keep my own sanity intact and i’m not reading any news, so i can tank energy for my family and friends who may need support in these hard times.

I’m disappointed, but not surprised at all.

(UPDATE) toxicity, 2021, digital

(2048×2048 px 500 dpi)

I tried to make it through inktober this year, but i stopped on the day 15, next year gonna try again (till now i only made it through all days in 2018, going to post it next: upcoming gallery

Jack wears pumpkin suit, dea the Death wears the new acute toxicity GB CLP hazard pictogram in the shape of a diamond with a distinctive red border and white background, the flask is still marked with old one sign system

❌❌❌Please do not consume substances marked with these symbols ❌❌❌

check other works made for inktober2021