Since childhood, I have experienced lucid dreams—states in which I realize that I am asleep, and everything around me is only an illusion. Yet the ability to stay aware within a dream has a side effect: the sense of unreality begins to seep into waking life.

This early experience shaped me as an artist, teaching to perceive the world not as a fixed structure, but as a layered membrane one can look through. Reality is not solid but stratified, and perception is not a lens—it is a portal.

Lucid dreaming became the first step in my journey beneath the skin of reality.

Over time I discovered that music, rhythm, natural forces and certain liminal zones in the environment can act as triggers for altered states, a proto-shamanic trance in which the veil thins and another layer becomes visible. So what lies beyond that veil?

I see art as ritual—not a display, but an initiation.

Every work is a portal into the Abyss.

The Abyss not as emptiness, but as a source: a field before form, before structure—filled of possibilities that have not yet taken shape.

The entities emerging from this field are not symbols or projections, but autonomous systems of consciousness. Their logic is nonlinear, their will is not rooted in emotion, and their being is neither bodily nor psychological.

They are born not in matter, but in the intersections between layers of reality—nodes of meaning, autonomous patterns of presence that can be encountered but never fully understood.

My portals are points of contact with these forms of life.

My artistic approach is shaped by a multi-layered system of perception developed across different disciplines.

Musical training gave me a sense of rhythm, harmony, and vibration.

Film directing taught me not only to observe but to build trajectories of perception, turning inner states into structure.

Cinematography sharpened my visual sensibility and plastic thinking.

Art history provided a contextual understanding of artistic processes.

Philosophical practice gave depth and metaphysical orientation.

This multiplicity is not accidental: each discipline is a step toward understanding perception as a process.

In my practice, I aim to weave these channels into a unified field of sensory experience—a portal where the familiar world loses form, consciousness transforms, and the Abyss seeps irrevocably under the skin.

My work exists at the intersection of mediums. I use painting, photography, video, and sound as different languages, each suited to a particular revelation. Sometimes I need a color stain that defies meaning. Sometimes I need the precision of a frame where the world becomes still. And sometimes—I need a voice.

In painting I often rely on an intuitive approach—entering a state in which the image begins to emerge on its own. Not always, but these works feel the most honest.

Photography, for me, is not documentation but a filter of reality. I distort, dissolve, and manipulate light, layering the image to reveal not what is seen by the ordinary gaze, but what lies behind it in the moment of capture.

I turn to music when too much accumulates inside: feelings, tension, passion, pain, the raw energy of life. When a canvas is too slow and photography too flat. My musical compositions are emotional ruptures—without serenity, but filled with fury, longing, fire. Sound becomes a form of experience that no longer fits into an image. It is my most direct mediumistic channel—without filters or metaphor.

Currently I am moving toward hybrid formats: installations that combine sound, image, and physical presence. I am experimenting with the idea of a portal as an object that can be not only seen, but felt with the entire body. VR and spatial-sound projects are in development—my attempt to move beyond the two-dimensional and create an all-encompassing experience.

In parallel, I am studying methods of influencing human perception that can induce altered states: hypnotic techniques, rhythmic patterns, music and infrasound, light phenomena, and vibration.

Another direction of my research concerns places of power—locations where perception shifts under the influence of geomagnetic and natural anomalies.

My favorite time for creation and exploration is dusk and night. They open space for imagination, revealing what cannot be felt during the day. In these hours, the connection with the subtle world becomes clearer, sharper, unmistakably alive.