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Sphere I is a small-scale sculptural form.
It is built through accumulation and compression of paper clay and natural clay, combined with pigment, ash, sand, charcoal, and acrylic.
The surface develops slowly.
Layer by layer.
Under pressure and natural drying.
Cracks emerge as part of the structure.
They pass through the form and remain within it.
Fragments, fractures, and tonal shifts are held in the surface as records of time and change.
Color… emerges through mineral interaction — ochre, rust, grey, and muted blue — embedded within the material.
The sphere holds density and internal tension.
Its scale is reduced, yet it carries the presence of mass and duration.
Despite its solidity, the form remains remarkably light.
Its structure holds.
A closed form that gathers and stabilizes matter.
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.