The project began with a slowing down - a deceleration to the limit.
An attempt to enter into contact with personal love: to understand what it turns toward, what truly feels close to me, where my attention is drawn.
There had long been a sense of form, texture, body, tension, density, physicality.
In the process, I reached contact with an inner god, something that exists within me yet does not coincide with me.
I observe it and recognize a likeness between us: whether I mirror it, or it mirrors me, remains uncertain.
The white space on which it - black, oily, and textured - manifests itself evoked both love and anxiety.
Anxiety from the impossibility of becoming it completely.
Further attempts to remain in contact with it led me to seek its likenesses in the material world - in objects, in forms, in situations.
Over time, the anxiety intensified to its limit.
It became unbearable, demanded release, and I stopped these searches, any comparison with reality had become painful.

My attention then shifted toward metaphysical objects that share similar properties what I call “it”: a complex of traits that generate attraction.
They may appear in different forms, yet they preserve an internal structure.
I turned to music, cinema, animation, and art books.
Through them arose the same feeling as in contact with the inner god, though in a softer register.
First recognition, assent: yes, this is it, this is the good.
Then hunger, the desire to create, to push something out of myself, to bring an object into being.

From mid-August began the process of giving birth to such objects.
It became extremely condensed and direct, reduced to a minimum in which the essential remained.
A black form, volume, texture - that was enough.
When the first graphic objects began to emerge, I understood that I was at the point of coincidence.
The process began to bring joy, tension, relief, emptiness without a sense of compulsion, without manic exhaustion, without separation from the divine.

As October approached, I decided to give the flow a form, to create a series of works while staying in full contact with this sensation.
The series became a chronicle of that contact.

The first group includes the works made with the greatest love with the deepest contact.
I felt it during the process, and I can still see what sets them apart.
A black dense mass, working as a plastic, heavy silhouette filled with inner tension and motion.
The textures are loaded, thick, saturated with the sense of a black, viscous, fleshy, oily body - emphasized by movement, by a kind of energetic wind.
Everything is soaked in blackness, in gloom, in a kind of sacred stench.
While I was drawing these works, I was in accord with the material.
In accord with the object.
In accord with the inner god.
I was in accord, and in love.
And the conversation, as you remember, is first and foremost about love.

During this part of the series, I explored the opposite side - the state of non-love, of compulsion, of violence toward oneself.
The pressure that takes the form of expectation, the desire to reach the end as quickly as possible.
All of this I placed into a separate category, the category of non-love.
And the result displeases me. It did so immediately.
Some works I abandoned midway, unable to finish them, they were repulsive to me.
Here I show only those pieces that entered the final stage of the project.
I knew, I felt, that I needed to record this as well.
The state of forced movement, of estrangement, of working without love.
It is present here, fixed and visible.

As the series unfolded, it kept changing - in concept, form, and feeling.
Two main phases came before: one of love, one of non-love.
The third was different.
I returned to a familiar shape, a bodily sense tied to life.
If the earlier contact with divine darkness was about chaos and eternity,
the final works became denser, more grounded.
These are my creatures - tangible, anthropomorphic forms with weight and structure.
The link with chaos faded, and I let it.
What remained was another kind of contact: clear, alive, deliberate.

In a separate group, I highlight the characters — figures from my own works to which I keep returning.
Some I’m still exploring; others I know well, but now I look at them from a new angle.
Here is Lyonka, gazing through haze and darkness — a traveler in the gloom, an archetype of a being who fears the dark yet keeps moving through it.
Next is Khna, a character from “Violence”, one of its central figures.
I portrayed her in a later form — the way she appears closer to the end of the work.
I had never seen her this way before, and her appearance here feels especially moving.
Then comes Selva, the atmospheric antagonist of the first world of “Violence” — a manifestation of boundless freedom and aggression.
And finally, Molly, well-known to me from “Fish”, in all her magnificence.

The series includes 31 works in total.
Soon I plan to assemble them into a complete artbook, a finished object that records the entire process of contact.
It may eventually be printed, but will first appear in digital form on Gumroad.
Working on this series left me deeply drained, a mix of release and exhaustion.
It felt like being emptied out after a long creative tension, finally free but worn.
I’ll likely take a pause - time to reflect, to recover, and to deal with ordinary things that have been waiting on the sidelines.