Ukraine: Secrets of Resilience was an exhibition by True Blue & a Little Bit of Yellow, presented at Sydney Town Hall to mark one year since the start of the full-scale Russian invasion of Ukraine.
I wanted to find a way to help people in Australia understand what war is — not in abstract terms, but through human experience. That idea became Secrets of Resilience. I went through a year of devastating news and personal testimonies, selecting stories that resonated most deeply and spoke about survival, loss, strength, and endurance.
From these stories, I created a series of posters combining documentary photographs, written accounts, and artworks — my own and those of fellow artists — alongside real objects carrying personal and symbolic meaning. Each element was chosen carefully, so the exhibition could be read, felt, and experienced rather than simply viewed.
Working through so much human pain was emotionally demanding. Revisiting these stories left a lasting mark, but I believe the process was necessary. The exhibition allowed many visitors to imagine themselves in a place of conflict and offered a glimpse into how people continue to live, endure, and remain human under unimaginable circumstances.
It was not an easy exhibition — but it was an important one.
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.
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.
