“calm palms” is a semi-abstract drawing that portrays a pair of hands gently resting together in the meditative dhyana mudra position. There is no remaining body – the palms appear severed, yet serene. Their whiteness suggests they may once have belonged to a stone sculpture, now lost or crumbled with time. Still, the hands remain intact – preserved as a symbol of timeless stillness and inner peace.

The composition is nearly monochrome, drawn in black and white, yet interrupted by a quiet presence of red – like warm blood flowing through the lines of the drawing. This crimson detail bridges the image with life, grounding the meditative stillness in human emotion and the silent longing for transcendence.

A poetic contrast emerges: the gesture of calm is born from absence; the stone-like presence of the hands becomes a living emblem of the human search for lasting serenity.

67x35x1,7 cm

graphite, pencils, acrylic, markers, lacquer on plywood

“not a peacock” is an abstract mixed media work on plywood that reflects on value, identity, and the subtle social rituals of comparison. The scene features turkeys (distant relatives of peacocks) quietly engaged in a moment of judgment. A female turkey looks at a male and silently concludes: “not a peacock.”

This simple statement becomes loaded with social meaning. It hints at our human habit of comparing others against idealized standards, often without recognizing our own place in the hierarchy. The piece gently critiques this projection: the judge herself is no peacock either, but an ordinary village bird, mirroring the very subject she devalues.

With dry humor and minimalistic clarity, the work invites reflection on status, authenticity, and misplaced aspirations.

75 x 50.5 x 1 cm

acrylic, pencils, spray paint, markers, graphite, lacquer on plywood

Even among beavers there’s a beef sometimes. Maybe a day started with a wrong foot or a wrong look or even worse… long story short, one beaver had a grudge against other one and destroyed his dam, so this liberated amount of waters outflew into the endless windings, and as they receded, they left something unexpected: a glimmering layer of golden sand.

This painting reflects not only a whimsical tale, but also a deeper emotional landscape. It explores themes of conflict and release, destruction and discovery. Just like in nature, when tensions break, what remains can surprise us – sometimes ruin leaves behind gold.

A symbolic fauvist-style landscape where color and emotion rise like a tide – and fall with meaning.

69,5x35x1,5cm

markers, graphite, pencils, spray paint, acrylic, fixative on plywood

It’s often said about someone: “He grew spiritually.”
But how does that growth show itself? What changes, if everything on the surface remains the same?

You can look closely at someone and form an opinion – based on behavior, tone, gestures. But are those impressions ever accurate? Or are they just reflections of your own lens?

This work explores the quiet, unseen expansion of a person, the mystery of inner evolution, and the fragile gap between essence and appearance. Growth, after all, is not always visible – but it reshapes everything.

Rendered with bold color and subtle distortion, the image offers no answers – only an invitation to sense what cannot be named.

2 x 26,5×76.5×1.5 cm

2 x 2.8 kg.

spray paint, markers, graphite, fixative on plywood

Children all around the world love coloring books. Their contents vary endlessly – including sacred scenes – and beg to be filled with color. For children, there is no line between sacred and ordinary. They do not yet know the rules, and in that unknowing lies their purity.

If a child scribbles on a holy image or breaks a sacred object, we understand – their world is equally sacred in all directions. They want to explore, to feel, to touch. They color not out of disrespect, but out of presence.

But what about us – the grown-ups?

“Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”
– Matthew 18:3

This piece questions our perception of reverence, rule, and innocence – and how they shift with age. What does sacredness mean when filtered through a felt-tip pen?

One of the “few pages from a coloring book”.

Coloring books are loved by children around the world. With their curious hands, they bring life to outlines – sometimes outside the lines, sometimes in unexpected colors. For children, the whole world is sacred because nothing is yet separate, nothing is too holy to touch. Even Buddha under a tree – calm, wise, untouchable – can become a playground of color and imagination.

What happens when we grow up?
Do we still see the sacred in everything, or do we start to draw lines between what we’re allowed to touch and what we must leave untouched?

This piece invites the viewer to return to that childlike gaze – curious, unafraid, sincere – where reverence is not separation, but closeness.

„What we are today comes from our thoughts of yesterday, and our present thoughts build our life of tomorrow: Our life is the creation of our mind.“
– Dhammapada, 1:1–2

One of the “few pages from a coloring book”.

“Dancer with a Flute” playfully reimagines the sacred icon of Krishna through a childlike lens. Mixing bold colors with loose strokes over a traditional religious outline, the work explores innocence, devotion, and the human impulse to participate – even imperfectly – in the divine. Part of an ongoing series where spiritual images are interrupted by spontaneous coloring, it reflects the tension between reverence and irreverence, ritual and freedom.

“Whenever there is a decline in righteousness and an increase in unrighteousness, O Arjuna, at that time I manifest Myself on earth.”
– Bhagavadgita 4.7

One of “few pages from a coloring book”