01/06/2026
This is very inspiring!
Several years ago, at one of the international art fairs, I found myself in a space where everything felt too loud — the scale, the names, the gestures. I stood slightly aside, next to my works, small and almost intimate. Black-and-white pieces, uncompromising lines, faces that do not look but listen.
A woman approached me. Very calm. There was no rush in her presence, no need to prove anything. She spent a long time looking specifically at the small works — the ones where lines intertwine, where faces appear and disappear, where the gaze belongs to no one in particular. Then she mentioned that she owns a private gallery in Dubai. Not as a statement, but as a continuation of the silence.
She selected several drawings immediately, without discussion. Some time later, she returned — this time not for small formats. She was interested in how the same energy would sound on a larger scale, in spaces where people live rather than simply observe. That is how a series of large works began.
I was later told that these pieces found their place in homes where decoration is not the goal, but tension, inner rhythm, and honesty of line are valued. Where art does not decorate, but exists.
One of these large works is now exhibited in her gallery. It has its own life, its own context, its own value. I am not directly involved in that side of the process — it is her territory, her profession.
For me, something else matters.
My works reached a city where worlds, languages, and speeds intersect. Thousands of kilometers away from my studio, they continue to speak — to people I have never met.
And in that, there is a strange, quiet happiness: realizing that a line drawn once can travel far beyond the artist himself.
