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This vessel gathers time through rings and steps.
Its form rises in quiet terraces, holding weight, pause, and repetition within a single body.
Rings and layers shape how time is read in nature — in stone, in land, in slow geological processes.
Here, they appear as darkened steps, carrying density and shadow as a record of duration and memory.
The surface bears the trace of the hand as presence.
Texture remains.
Material settles through accumulation,… abrasion, and chance, forming a surface that cannot be repeated.
Its color shifts with light and time of day, moving between deep ash, mineral black, and muted stone tones.
The vessel carries an aged, antique presence shaped through surface and material.
Created in the spirit of wabi-sabi and Arte Povera, the work relies on simple matter — a blend of natural clay and paper clay — allowing time, light, and material to define its presence.
I was born in a city that no longer exists as it was. Mariupol — once sea and sand, now ash and absence. Yet even what disappears leaves its trace. That trace is what I follow. I live now in Zurich, but my hands still carry the earth of elsewhere. I grind straw, soil, bark, ash into matter that resists beauty. These are not materials chosen—they are what remains. I am close to Arte Povera, because in the poverty of matter lies genius: the truth that nothing is too small to hold memory. I am close to wabi-sabi, because time itself writes through imperfection, through cracks, through silence. My vessels and wall pieces are not objects. They are witnesses. Companions of dust and silence. Fragile, yet enduring. They stay when all else is gone.