My Evolution

Belarus. Born and raised.

I was born and raised in Belarus. My childhood was marked by solitude. I spent my time immersed in books, engaging in typical boyhood activities like cycling and tree-climbing – always finding contentment in my own company.
Drawing became my passion early on, starting back in kindergarten. As I progressed to elementary school, I often visited my mother at her job as an artist and decorator. Recognizing my talent, my parents enrolled me in a middle school with an artistic focus, providing ample hours for drawing and painting alongside regular classes. The joy I derived from drawing was immeasurable.
After completing the ninth grade, I made a bold choice to leave traditional schooling behind, opting to pursue something greater.

Architecture. Glass ceiling.

I joined the architecture college and was fortunate to be selected as a scholarship recipient for a tuition-free education. The program was intense, and beyond drawing and painting, we delved into various fascinating activities – from planning houses and city design to color reproduction, architectural history, and design principles. The architecture college significantly shaped my artistic perspective.
Post-graduation, I realized that my imaginative ideas would be able to thrive better in another system than the one I found myself in which was characterized by state regulations. Moreover, at the time I could not find any women in positions in Belarusian architecture that I would have loved to see myself in. From a young age, I understood the challenges of effecting change and decided to pursue a different path.

Security engineer. Masculinity.

I became a security engineer, inspired by my father’s role as a high-ranking police officer coordinating security projects. Growing up in a patriarchal society, witnessing the limited opportunities for women, I aimed to embody the strength an independence traditionally associated with men.
I enrolled in a distance-learning safety engineering program at the university, working my way up from an assistant engineer position. The environment was predominantly male, and I faced sexism regularly. Determined to prove my expertise daily, I became resilient, serious, and relentless in the pursuit of truth. Heavily rejecting traditional feminine traits, I distanced myself from perceived weaknesses. Sexist remarks were a constant battle, leading me to associate femininity with vulnerability. Competing with men, I did not only want to be as good as men, I needed to be better and stronger than any man around me. It was only upon arriving in Berlin that I forged friendships with inspiring women, gradually overcoming the trauma of my past.
Years of working through this journey, and adding the responsibility and legal consequences placed on me in my role, eventually led to burnout.

Burnout. Illustratorin.

After my burnout, art became my constant companion. Encouraged by friends, I gradually started showcasing all the paintings and art projects I had created as a hobby on my website. While working as a security specialist, I painted portraits for friends, adorned my entire apartment with murals, and experimented with various techniques, including interior design and office décor. I realized that art was my true passion and that I wanted to pursue a career as an artist.
From childhood, the idea of becoming an artist was never considered, as it carried a stigma. People around me often dismissed art as an impractical profession, insisting one couldn’t make a living from it and that pursuing it was a path to poverty and madness. My recent work “Cyberbase” featuring a healthy and well-off Van Gogh is heavily influenced by this experience.
I initially ventured into web design and illustration. I taught myself Photoshop and Adobe Illustrator, freelancing as an illustrator. After six months, I organized an exhibition featuring large illustrations in a local café. It was then that I realized my true desire lay in exhibitions, not in being a web designer or illustrator.

Becoming an artist. Goodbye, Belarus.

I wanted to be an artist, creating grand works and taking on substantial projects. However, a stark realization hit me – becoming an artist in Belarus was an unattainable dream. Moreover, selling paintings was a daunting task, as there was no culture or means for people to invest in art. Being an artist in Belarus felt like swimming against the current. Exhausted from years of battling, I wasn’t ready to face both the art and systemic challenges.
In the years preceding my departure from Belarus, I found inspiration in the books and online blog of illustrator Yana Frank, depicting life in Berlin and her creative journey. Her works, which literally saved me from severe depression, ignited a creative spark. I decided to try my hand at illustration, beginning to believe in myself as an artist. Her writings convinced me that Berlin was the ideal place to explore my creative potential. My then-husband and I, both compelled to leave Belarus, made the joint decision to relocate to Berlin, finding it to be the conducive environment we needed.

Berlin. Discovering tape.

Arriving in Berlin, I finally found my home. Despite living in the capital of Belarus, I felt confined, yearning for more space and opportunities. Berlin offered a sense of belonging, embracing diversity, myriad freedoms, and a multitude of expressions. Above all, Berlin showed me how much society values self-expression.

Berlin is where I discovered and fell in love with tape art, marking a significant moment in my artistic journey. For a year, I collaborated with the Selfmadecrew, participating in the inaugural Tape Art Convention and The Haus (2017). The Haus became the catalyst for my journey as a contemporary Berlin artist, introducing me to a vibrant community of incredibly talented street artists and muralists, many of whom I now call friends and collaborators.

Solo career. My themes.

After a year, I realized my desire to be an independent artist and embarked on a solo career, a decision driven by the need to work on my own themes and convey my thoughts to the world. This daunting choice marked the beginning of my solo artistic journey.
Berlin granted me newfound freedoms unseen before – freedoms of self-realization, self-determination, self-expression, sexuality, and politics. Emerging from a society where sex was taboo, Berlin’s liberal atmosphere allowed me to explore my own identity. Inspired by the city, I delved into self-discovery, addressing traumas, stereotypes, and restrictions. The central theme of my art became freedom – exploring how individuals express themselves, love who they want, value themselves, respect others, and resist societal influences.
Influenced by Berlin, my art began reflecting the exploration of complex, meaningful topics. Following The Haus, I was invited to the festival “A-part” in Marseille, France, marking the shift to creating works on themes close to my heart. Berlin provided the backdrop for my journey into street art, which continued in tape art. My interest in people, emotions, and profound subjects became evident, each painting infused with deep meaning (“Hidden Emotions”).
My artistic evolution in Berlin absorbed my past experiences from Belarus, including my architectural and engineering background. While portraits always captivated me, Berlin deepened my creative focus, with every theme that fascinated me shaping my artistic periods. Exploring sexuality, fetishism, and kink, my early works in Berlin were a stark departure from the environment of my birth. Series “Pink Dreams”, series “Red”, and series “Monochrome Beauty”
Participating in Berlin’s open conversations about sexuality at parties in 2017, I immersed myself in the exploration of sexual freedom. Series “Red” This newfound fascination influenced my art, evolving from black and white to incorporate vibrant colors like pink and blue in 2018. Leveraging fetishism to convey intense emotions, my art delves into the powerful connections and emotions found in human relationships.
Series “Pink Dreams” – Eat your fetters  My pink artistic period in 2019 was deeply sensual and symbolically transformative for me. Despite a lifelong aversion to the color pink as a stereotypically feminine hue, my journey in Berlin prompted me to confront and overcome this bias. Recognizing that this dislike limited me, I decided to symbolize my reconciliation with the color. I created a massive wall at Teufelsberg, inscribed with “eat your fetters,” signifying my struggle with and acceptance of the color pink.
This monumental work, both physically and emotionally demanding, became a celebration of embracing pink not as a gender-specific label but as a vibrant color.