It was always confusing for me when people say “create art” or “make art”. 

I studied theater direction. I can’t exactly tell you why. Frankly speaking I was spread among different mediums from a very early age. I wrote my first poem at the age of 5. I asked my mom to take me to dance classes when I was six. I made my first picture when I was 5. And I mean a serious picture: I was in the studio, I had an easel, and when I finished I had this feeling that this is a piece of art I made. I remember that moment very clearly. 

And it wasn’t the case that my parents pushed me towards any artistic expression. It just felt natural. It was my way of existence and getting to know the world. It was just like.. What happens if I take this medium and try to use it as an extension of myself? 

Then things got messed up. My mom had this approach of either you are number one immediately or you do not do it at all. So it was like.. Either your picture is at the central spot at the first exhibition or I do not take you to any classes at all. Either you dance in the middle of the first row or you do not go to the class again. And it was the same story again and again for many, many different mediums. I was going for an infinite amount of afterschool activities because I was just curious.. What happens if I take this medium and try to use it as an extension of myself? 

I did several years of drawing, six or seven years of theater, several years of literature declamation, several years of making pictures, seven or eight years of dancing, all possible and impossible styles from ballet to pole dance and hip hop, many many years of writing, poetry, prose, several books, theater plays, several years of modeling, once I even made a jewelry collection. 

But at some point the pressure of either being the best or quitting became too much and I lost that curiosity of “What happens if…” and just was doing it because it was on my schedule. And whatever I was doing from that state, I always felt like a visitor. Occasionally I quitted. I went to study mathematics and started exploring normal professions, got interested in tech, and made my first internship in Venture Capital. Things were fine. But also when I distanced from that pressure of either being the best or quitting at some point I started feeling that curiosity again. 

And one day I was like.. Okay I wrote this text. It’s not the best text in the world. It didn’t win the competition. But this text transfers something about the world. So what happens if I read it out loud? What happens if I read it out loud in the forest? What happens if I ask another person to read it? And a chain of those what if one day just brought me to directing a performance based on my own lyrics. While working in Venture Capital day times and rehearsing the performance at nights and on weekends. It wasn’t the best performance. It wasn’t the Venice Teatro Biennale level performance, but there was something in it that people connected with. 

And it just felt interesting. It felt like a way to talk to the world, to existence, to research, to explore. So occasionally I got into Masters in Theater Direction (in the beginning of COVID which was the worst time for it). It was a program with a lot of freedom for exploration. So I pretty much just continued exploring in my own way but now with more opportunities and a great platform. 

I made around 14 performances overall. And I started feeling that the whole idea of the stage does not resonate with me. Even with all modern approaches of breaking the fourth wall, side-specific, and what not – the stage is not a physical place, the stage is in our mind. So I started to softly deviate towards other mediums again, thinking a lot about working with light and polaroid photography. 

And then… the 7th of October happened. And I lost the navigation through the world. And my sentiment for the first year and a half was that in a world like this there is no place for art. I strongly focused on cryptography during this time because it felt like something very useful. Cryptography is a lock that can prevent things from happening. 

But this “What happens if…” was still there. And I actually was exactly where I stopped. Because you can’t get off the train if you are the train.

Last June another medium entered my world – shibari. Which is pretty much tying people. Which most people on the Earth have never heard of. And out of those who have heard, most of them will put it into the kink basket. But there is a huge artistic side of shibari. 

The pain of loss, being invisible, and too small to confront the world perception occasionally fades away. It is still with me. The 7th of October and how the world reacted to it – it is something that will never disappear. I am part of a generation that was raised with the confident claim that wars are in the past, it is a tool of the old world, and we live in a new world. And then in one minute, this very comfortable and comforting assumption collapsed which was heartbreaking and healing at the same time. Seeing the reality as it is always gives room to breath. Even if initially it is hard to breathe in even once.

But when the pain faded away a bit, I had more space again. I had more space for “What happens if…”  and this is what inspired me to go deeper into shibari and explore it as a medium of existence. And this is a thin research and exploration process that I do not expect to ever end. I do not expect it to be fruitful. I do not expect it to win the contest. It’s just my way of existence. I do not make art. I live art. And I will never stop exploring..

It was always confusing for me when people say “create art” or “make art”. 

I studied theater direction. I can’t exactly tell you why. Frankly speaking I was spread among different mediums from a very early age. I wrote my first poem at the age of 5. I asked my mom to take me to dance classes when I was six. I made my first picture when I was 5. And I mean a serious picture: I was in the studio, I had an easel, and when I finished I had this feeling that this is a piece of art I made. I remember that moment very clearly. 

And it wasn’t the case that my parents pushed me towards any artistic expression. It just felt natural. It was my way of existence and getting to know the world. It was just like.. What happens if I take this medium and try to use it as an extension of myself? 

Then things got messed up. My mom had this approach of either you are number one immediately or you do not do it at all. So it was like.. Either your picture is at the central spot at the first exhibition or I do not take you to any classes at all. Either you dance in the middle of the first row or you do not go to the class again. And it was the same story again and again for many, many different mediums. I was going for an infinite amount of afterschool activities because I was just curious.. What happens if I take this medium and try to use it as an extension of myself? 

I did several years of drawing, six or seven years of theater, several years of literature declamation, several years of making pictures, seven or eight years of dancing, all possible and impossible styles from ballet to pole dance and hip hop, many many years of writing, poetry, prose, several books, theater plays, several years of modeling, once I even made a jewelry collection. 

But at some point the pressure of either being the best or quitting became too much and I lost that curiosity of “What happens if…” and just was doing it because it was on my schedule. And whatever I was doing from that state, I always felt like a visitor. Occasionally I quitted. I went to study mathematics and started exploring normal professions, got interested in tech, and made my first internship in Venture Capital. Things were fine. But also when I distanced from that pressure of either being the best or quitting at some point I started feeling that curiosity again. 

And one day I was like.. Okay I wrote this text. It’s not the best text in the world. It didn’t win the competition. But this text transfers something about the world. So what happens if I read it out loud? What happens if I read it out loud in the forest? What happens if I ask another person to read it? And a chain of those what if one day just brought me to directing a performance based on my own lyrics. While working in Venture Capital day times and rehearsing the performance at nights and on weekends. It wasn’t the best performance. It wasn’t the Venice Teatro Biennale level performance, but there was something in it that people connected with. 

And it just felt interesting. It felt like a way to talk to the world, to existence, to research, to explore. So occasionally I got into Masters in Theater Direction (in the beginning of COVID which was the worst time for it). It was a program with a lot of freedom for exploration. So I pretty much just continued exploring in my own way but now with more opportunities and a great platform. 

I made around 14 performances overall. And I started feeling that the whole idea of the stage does not resonate with me. Even with all modern approaches of breaking the fourth wall, side-specific, and what not – the stage is not a physical place, the stage is in our mind. So I started to softly deviate towards other mediums again, thinking a lot about working with light and polaroid photography. 

And then… the 7th of October happened. And I lost the navigation through the world. And my sentiment for the first year and a half was that in a world like this there is no place for art. I strongly focused on cryptography during this time because it felt like something very useful. Cryptography is a lock that can prevent things from happening. 

But this “What happens if…” was still there. And I actually was exactly where I stopped. Because you can’t get off the train if you are the train.

Last June another medium entered my world – shibari. Which is pretty much tying people. Which most people on the Earth have never heard of. And out of those who have heard, most of them will put it into the kink basket. But there is a huge artistic side of shibari. 

The pain of loss, being invisible, and too small to confront the world perception occasionally fades away. It is still with me. The 7th of October and how the world reacted to it – it is something that will never disappear. I am part of a generation that was raised with the confident claim that wars are in the past, it is a tool of the old world, and we live in a new world. And then in one minute, this very comfortable and comforting assumption collapsed which was heartbreaking and healing at the same time. Seeing the reality as it is always gives room to breath. Even if initially it is hard to breathe in even once.

But when the pain faded away a bit, I had more space again. I had more space for “What happens if…”  and this is what inspired me to go deeper into shibari and explore it as a medium of existence. And this is a thin research and exploration process that I do not expect to ever end. I do not expect it to be fruitful. I do not expect it to win the contest. It’s just my way of existence. I do not make art. I live art. And I will never stop exploring..