
Books have always felt magical to me. Unlike social media, they don’t disappear into a feed — they stay in your hands, on your shelf, and in your life. A book captures what’s important and preserves it for generations. And to make that experience meaningful, every detail matters.
Over the years, I’ve worked on many publications — sometimes creating the layout, other times designing covers, illustrations, or managing the entire visual direction.
One of my favourite projects was Taste of Ukraine, published by the Australian Publishing Company (sovabooks.com.au). I created the cover illustrations and the full layout — and the book went on to win the 2013 Gourmand World Cookbook Award.
I’ve also worked with community organisations, including Ukrainians Down Under for AFUO, where I served as both editor and designer for their catalogue. Four Jubilee Book for Intersession of Holy Virgin Parish is one of the thickest and most comprehensive publication I’ve worked on to date.


Each book is its own world — structured, tactile, permanent. And I love shaping those worlds so they’re clear, beautiful, and built to last.











Trained in the classical European school of realistic drawing and painting, I’ve worked across many mediums, but today I am best known for textural acrylic and oil works that focus on the individuality of Australian flora. My process begins with shallow sculptural relief backgrounds that capture the forms and textures of the bush. Onto these surfaces, I layer subtle hues and naturalistic details. From afar, the paintings often read as abstract compositions; up close, they reveal intricate studies of colour and form. As a newcomer to Australia, painting became my way of connecting with this land — learning its trees, flowers, and light through observation. I believe that when we truly know something, we begin to care for it. My work invites viewers to see the bush not as a uniform green mass, but as a collection of distinct, vibrant individuals.

In the fifth grade, I first tried watercolour painting—and it instantly became a source of immense joy. The way the pigments danced and blended on paper felt like magic. I discovered that watercolours have a mind of their own: their fluidity and unpredictability invite collaboration rather than control. Over the years, this dialogue between brush, water, and pigment has stayed with me. Every time I pick up a watercolour brush, I’m reminded of that first spark of discovery in year 5—the joy of watching colours flow freely, forming something beautiful and unexpected. My journey with art didn’t stop there. I’ve dedicated my entire life to studying and working with various materials—acrylics, oils, texture pastes, and more—each offering its own challenges and rewards. Yet watercolour remains my first love, the medium that taught me to trust the process and embrace the beauty of imperfection. Even today, that simple act of dipping the brush in water brings not only pigments to paper but also a flood of memories, a quiet sense of gratitude, and a profound satisfaction that has endured since those early school days.