Open

I know a man who chats with his son whenever he has a spare minute. Chats just about anything and everything. It doesn’t always have to be educational, passing the torch, etc. But the kid gets a chance to look him in the eyes. He feels dad listens to him and knows he is heard. Isn’t it precious to know there is someone who hears you? That kid knows he can discuss what is good and wrong not only with his smartphone. To me, it’s a great joy to see genuinely open parents.

2024, oil on canvas, 30″x30″

$ 4,300

Breeze from the West

My life often feels like a story I tell myself about myself.
As time washes over it, details blur, some chapters of the big story become jokes, others – fairy tales, and some become a sanctuary of the memory. That day at Santa Monica Pier was filled with emotion, a much-anticipated family reunion, and laughs. Now, I set all the busy details aside but hold that moment’s essence dear. It brings back serenity, tranquil joy, and the salty kiss of the ocean breeze.

2024, framed, oil on canvas, 30″x30″

$ 1,200

Pursuit

What’s more than happiness? The pursuit of happiness! (highlighted by our dear Declaration of Independence)

The hermit lived in deep solitude. Every day, as the sun rose, he went to the big garden. And in the garden lived a beautiful and surprisingly modest bird. The hermit contemplated with interest the bird’s amazing feathers, had fun, tried to catch it, and passed the time in this way inconspicuously. The bird, sitting tantalizingly close, seemed to invite capture, yet always eluded his grasp. “Don’t worry, my friend, about the fact that you can’t catch me,” said the bird. “You will try forever, never to catch me, but only to rejoice.” 

Once a friend came to him, they greeted each other and started a friendly conversation. “Tell me,” asked the guest, “what do you do to comfort yourself in this desolate desert? I would die of boredom here.” “And I,” said the hermit, “have two entertainments: a bird and a beginning. I always try to catch the bird, though I can never catch it. And I also have a thousand and one cleverly tangled silk knots. I look for the beginning in them and never can untangle.”

This is what Grigory Skovoroda’s favorite parable about the hermit and the bird sounds like, a poetic exploration of solitude and the elusive nature of truth. The joy of solitude, the “bird”-truth that you forever catch without hope of ever catching, silk knots-labyrinths, knowledge of the nature of things as the only pleasure accessible to man without poison, – in short, life as an eternal search for the Truth-Beginning.

2023, acrylic on canvas, 18″x24″

$ 600

Snowbird

This one is prosaic.
Our Phoenix valley, though serene for most of the year, undergoes a seasonal transformation. A migratory influx of ‘snowbirds’ fleeing frigid climes increases our population during the winter months. It’s a testament to human resilience and the allure of warmer shores that so many can untether themselves from life’s daily demands, work, school, etc. It’s beautiful! Yet, amid this influx, locals harbor a simple plea: ‘Dear snowbirds, before joining us on the open road, kindly ensure your frosty steeds are fully thawed.’ Personally, I have to admit that it took me a year to defrost myself when I first moved to Arizona.

2023, acrylic on canvas, 12″x12″

$ 300

Rock Warrior

This is a portrait of Sviatoslav Vakarchuk, a Ukrainian musician, politician, public activist, soldier, and leader of the band Okean Elzy. He makes amazing music (you can listen here), but what is even more amazing is what he does for his country. I respect him endlessly.

2022, oil on canvas, 12″x12″

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Native

I found something I noticed today interesting. Just the other day I was thinking about how it’s immature and dumb to blame everyone and everything but yourself when things go wrong. I thought only a kid would trip over a rock and say ‘stupid rock!’ 

Today, I think I saw the situation from a different angle. If we the adults constantly blame ourselves, we can’t act in the moment. Taking responsibility for everything can be paralyzing. If you keep telling yourself, ‘I messed up here, I misjudged the time, I rushed, or I took too long, I used the wrong word,’ etc., you might stop believing in yourself altogether. 

Of course, in the long run, you need to analyze your mistakes. Ask yourself, ‘I don’t like this situation, what can I do differently to change it?’ But it’s also totally okay to curse out a branch that smacked you in the face. Sometimes you just need to vent to keep going. If it helps you move forward, then do it. Drop the weight of resentment and regret. 

Responsibility, like everything else, is good in moderation. If you want to help someone, or yourself, let them vent when they’re upset, and let them blame anyone they want to quickly switch gears and find a solution to the problem right now if they need to. And it’s best to discuss the causes and effects when you’ve calmed down and can think clearly. You need to discuss them so you don’t get stuck feeling helpless because things aren’t working out and it’s just not meant to be.

2024, acrylic on canvas, 12″x12″

$ 200

Map of Phoenix

Anyone who’s house-hunting in Phoenix can tell you it’s a wild ride. You could spend days driving around and still not know if you’re in a sketchy part of town or a posh neighborhood. One minute you’re driving past a mansion, and the next you’re in a neighborhood that looks like it’s straight out of a zombie movie. Downtown is a real hodgepodge. You’ll find dilapidated buildings right alongside stunning architectural gems, and beautiful palm-lined boulevards and golf courses interspersed with vacant lots and streets covered in graffiti. It’s a city that’s constantly surprising you with its contrasts.

2020, oil on canvas, 12″x12″

$ 300

Unity and Freedom

Abraham Lincoln prevented the country from splitting apart. He stopped the South from seceding. This led to a bloody civil war, claiming hundreds of thousands of lives. However, it also resulted in the end of slavery and eventually the reunification of the nation.

I think sometimes unity, rather than division, is the best path when it’s time to evolve and reach a new level of self-identity. If you practice this approach I can visualize you wearing Lincoln’s top hat.

2020, oil on canvas, 12″x12″

$ 300

Copper Mule and Friends

Reflecting those around me. Are friends those who we already resemble or those who we aspire to be like?

2019, oil on canvas, 12″x12″

$ 200

Self Isolation

It was in 2020 when I was sent to work from home and asked to isolate myself from others as much as possible because of the pandemic. A time of uncertainty, feelings of danger, calls to those who had fallen ill, masks, and COVID tests.

But despite everything, no matter how much we were each in our own bubble, people remained connected amazingly. Connections make life meaningful.

2020, oil on canvas, 30″x30″

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Life Unit

Lately, the phrase “ethnic origin” grates on my ears. It reeks of stale, stereotypical lies. In our time of globalization, when large cities around the world are barely distinguishable from each other, when we all share the same information field, and when you can’t find pure blood in any DNA test, the word “ethnos” and all ethnic definitions should be sent to the dustbin of history along with the word “race.”

What exists in today’s reality are states that are either democratic or dictatorial to varying degrees. And in these states live people who are also of only two types: free people and victims of circumstances. This is a daily choice for every person in any part of the world.

If today I act like a free person, I choose what to focus my attention on, I choose where to apply my efforts, what to invest my time in, and I am responsible for the results of my actions, and I am responsible for the purity of my heart and conscience and for my mood as well, then today I am moving towards the light, towards progress, forward to a better version of myself.

But if today I act like a victim, not responsible for anything at all, drifting like a piece of wood, carrying out criminal or simply stupid orders from above, closing my eyes to dirt and filth, trying not to think about problems, refusing to understand and seek the truth, but wanting to forget myself and feel sorry for myself, then I am degrading, falling into darkness, and losing my soul.

A step forward or a step back. Freedom or victimhood. It’s that simple. Black or white. And here, the color and shape of your eyes and the language your grandparents spoke don’t matter. What matters is what ideas you live by. Are you moving forward or backward? A life unit or a death unit.

2020, oil on canvas, 18″x24″

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