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.
During this period, the presence of something biomorphic, mythic, was especially acute.
It took the shape of a hero with a weapon, an antagonist, or a dragon.
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.