Mosaic has always fascinated me for its quiet complexity. There is something magical in planning to deconstruct a design into small pieces, only to assemble it again into a new whole. Each fragment carries its own presence, yet only truly comes alive in relationship to the others.
Our eye moves naturally along the lines between the pieces, enjoying the rhythm of separation as much as the image they form together. We see the individual elements, the design they create collectively, and the spaces in between — all at once. That simultaneous experience is what makes mosaic so compelling to me: multifaceted, layered, and endlessly engaging.
Beyond its visual richness, mosaic surfaces are also wonderfully practical. They are not afraid of a hot cup, a wet glass, a scratch, or a spill. This combination of beauty and durability is what makes mosaic especially appealing to me — art that can be lived with, touched, and used every day.
My journey with oil painting began in year 7, when I was studying at the State Secondary Art School in Kyiv, Ukraine — a highly selective school that required passing three entrance exams in painting, drawing, and composition. It was there that we transitioned from watercolours and gouache to the timeless medium of oils. I’ve always loved this classical medium. Oils have a long and rich tradition in fine art, and I’ve admired their depth, luminosity, and the way colours blend so seamlessly on the canvas. Working with oils teaches patience and reflection — they dry slowly, giving time to build layers with care and intention. I feel incredibly fortunate to have received proper academic training in the classical use of oils, alongside in-depth knowledge of anatomy, linear perspective, perception principles, and art history. That foundation continues to shape how I see and create today, allowing me to appreciate not only the technique but also the discipline and history behind every brushstroke.
Knowing your tools deeply — how they behave, how they age, how they respond to light and heat — changes the way you work and the confidence with which you make decisions. During my time at Azur Studio in Kyiv, we took part in a number of art trips across Europe, visiting paint and medium manufacturers directly. These experiences were invaluable. Being able to ask questions about materials from the people who created them — the chemists, designers, and technicians behind the products — gave us insights no manual or catalogue ever could. Who could know the materials better than those who developed them? Along the way, we also participated in workshops with local designers who introduced us to the full potential of different gels and pastes, transparent and opaque paints, and specialised products for textile decoration and pseudo stained glass. We explored techniques for creating patina, working with gilding, and layering surfaces in ways that expanded both technical knowledge and creative possibility. I often find myself missing those times — being surrounded by like-minded professionals, travelling, learning, experimenting, and talking endlessly about what we loved most: paint, surface, and decoration. Those journeys shaped not only my technical approach, but also my respect for materials as active partners in the creative process.
