Suspended State
2024, 1.10 min, Video
Beneath my steps, the earth remains concealed, My existence wrapped in a foul ordeal. Yet, I’m no pessimist, heed my call, This life’s tapestry, I won’t let it enthrall. In a state suspended, my constant theme, Upside-down, in an awkward dream. I somersault through the freeing air, Only to land in a different snare. Life’s endless ripples on water’s embrace, Errors repeating, shadows interlace. Twice in the river, my steps find space, Yet, wings unfurl, a celestial grace. No ground beneath, I soar on high, Embracing life with wings, I fly.
____
My journey to the United States in 2024 was a significant, though temporary, chapter in my artistic life — a residency in Miami that offered a valuable opportunity for creative growth and international dialogue.
My path as an artist has been shaped by a broader experience shared by many in my generation: the dispersal of a once close-knit creative community. Over the past years, friends and colleagues have found themselves living across different countries, transforming our vibrant local network into a global, digitally connected constellation. This shift, from physical closeness to distant connection, is a profound part of my story. It has changed the meaning of “community” for me, making it something more fragile, yet something we actively and intentionally rebuild across borders.
This experience deeply influences how I see “home.” The landscapes, language, and cultural traditions of Belarus remain an inexhaustible well of inspiration for my work. They are the soil from which my imagery grows. But now, this connection is viewed through the complex lenses of memory and distance. Home is no longer just a physical place; it has become an internal territory I explore and redefine through my art. My practice — whether in painting, objects, or video — is a constant conversation between my roots and my present, a way to weave fragments of memory into something new.
This is why I have increasingly focused on video art. This medium feels inherently borderless; it can carry a piece of my inner world to viewers anywhere, creating a connection that doesn’t require my physical presence. It’s a way for my work to travel and find a community, even when I cannot.
Ultimately, my art is driven by a desire to capture the texture of this time — the feeling of living between past and present, here and there. My deepest hope is to continue this work, to keep building bridges through creativity, and to find solidarity with others who understand that art itself can be both a home and a meeting place.