Wednesday, November 12, 2014


Last summer I entered three dimensional world. Since then I didn't hit the canvas with my brush. Large scale rectangles in the storage are waiting for the paint, while I’m waiting for the inspiration and for the purpose. My hands are either brown because of clay, or white because of plaster. It doesn't make my skin happy, but it does something to my mind.
I feel like I have less of the control, or maybe none, whereas inner intuition plays the main role.
No looking at the model, no calculation. The beginning of making is spontaneous, the end is surprising. The process is very physical, where all my body is involved. The result is rather emotional.
My recent work questions me as an artist and as a human being. Sometimes it brings me satisfaction, sometimes it throws me into fear.
Am I? Or am I still trying to be?
Will I?.. 
And I’m not sure I’m ready for the answer. 

Wind on the hills (4 images)


Suffocated (2 images)

Combine (2 images)

Swan (3 images)


 An Eye (2 images)



In order to give more meaningful titles I better read more Japanese poetry.

Maryna Bilak