I am merely a mediator; the true author is the material itself.
Its strength lies in its wildness and primordial nature.

Wood is not merely a material, but a carrier of time. In its patterns one can read illnesses, wounds, and recoveries. Burl forms as the tree's response to trauma: a rare, complex, unpredictable shape that preserves the memory of pain and the power of growth. It is a symbol of inner resilience — despite everything, it continues to live.

Fire has become my ally.
It does not destroy, but opens up depth, revealing essence. It allows vulnerability while still preserving integrity and dignity.

A deliberate refusal of oil.
The wood is not hidden beneath a coating — it remains alive, open, accessible to the eye and touch. I have left it untamed and honest, refusing to conceal the truth under a layer of gloss.

On the personal.
What do we preserve — function or history? What is beauty? For me, beauty is born not in spite of flaws, but because of them. Not in external shine and perfection, but in inner honesty and openness. I have no art diplomas — and it is precisely this that gives me freedom. I work as my heart feels: without templates, without theories or rules, only in dialogue with the living material.

My first encounter with wood came through pain: dismissal from a high position, loss of support, responsibility for my family. I went to the dacha, took wood in my hands, and carved my first table. That was when I understood: support is born not from outside — not from position, status, or success — but from within. Not external or glossy — internal, real. Since then, wood has been for me a symbol of foundation, strength, and acceptance. It bears the traces of struggle, just like a person. Each of us is twisted, with our own scars, having passed through fire, yet still whole and alive.

Working on the sculpture was like a conversation with myself — the wood suggested the form, and I learned to trust its scars. Inside it — there is space for life. It invites you to touch the rough surface, inhale the scent of forest and smoke, and see the hidden essence behind the familiar image of birch.