Neither, actually. There was a time when I considered it a serious parenting failure that I wasn't given a formal art education, especially since I had been drawing with pure joy since early childhood—in sketchbooks, school notebooks, and even on freshly pasted wallpaper. Meanwhile, my sister, who was far less invested, was helped to prepare for and enter a tuition-based art university. Instead, I was pushed to focus heavily on math and physics to pass the entrance exams for one of the country's most prestigious universities.

But life soon put everything in its place: my sister abandoned drawing after receiving her diploma, and I left the university after my third course. Because the desire to prove my value to others significantly decreased, while the emotional pain increased to the maximum. At the same time, I do not consider my parents fully responsible for what happened, as I myself did not possess the necessary qualities to build my own destiny. Thanks to all the events, I developed them. No, it is not a fully conscious choice, but rather a desire to correspond to my nature.

Now, I think it began long before I was born—as a destiny to lead people to higher meanings, especially considering that there are many talented classical artists in our lineage. But to speak more practically, I recall being absolutely enchanted by the atmosphere in my aunt's house, where art was created from the very ground up: she mixed the gesso herself, prepared canvases, made stretchers, went out for en plein air sketches, and painted pictures.

Her house always smelled of linseed oil. Mountain landscapes, still lifes, and copies of works by I. Aivazovsky, K. Bryullov, and B. Vallejo hung on the walls. I would flip through art albums of the greatest masters—I. Shishkin, C. Monet, A. Kuindzhi, V. Vasnetsov, and others—absorbing her perception of the world through simple, clear remarks like: 'Look how warm those cows are,' or 'We need to add more light to the water,' and so on. It was so deeply soulful!

If teaching doesn’t mean stepping backward for me, then why not? As long as it is a conceptual and larger-scale activity that doesn't chase financial goals. I no longer want people to come to training because they liked my appearance, voice, or passion, and for them to spend their money on goals that are false for them. I think it could take the form of mentorship within a socially impactful project: creating an installation, revitalizing a community space, or guiding a cultural event.

Given that my artistic growth is rooted in practical experience rather than abstract concepts, I believe my previous background has naturally integrated into my visual expression. It is highly likely that Adobe Photoshop instilled in me the ability to work with layers, while graphic design provided an understanding of aesthetics, contrast, and internal 'constants.' Photography filled me with a love for complex color combinations and volume, and presentations (PowerPoint) seamlessly transformed into geometric shapes.

Furthermore, I am deeply fascinated by lighting effects—rays, reflections, light sources, and flares. There is no place for chaos, confusion, or absolute darkness in my paintings; instead, they embody order, a path toward life, and an enveloping, pure energy.

No, I simply like straight lines and closed contours, much the same way the architect Antoni Gaudi disliked them (it's a pity we missed each other in time and cannot passionately debate the matter)! And while I believe that nature is full of geometric shapes, I see no point in over-philosophizing it. Besides, the human mind is so overwhelmed by information noise nowadays that it has long stopped reacting to the mundane. Geometric art not only snaps a person out of daily reality and shifts their attention—giving overworked neurons a rest—but also subconsciously calms them, since a healthy human psyche naturally craves simple and clear things.

Beyond that, my latest series of paintings, 'Living Yin'—especially 'The Soul of Xifang'—belongs to long-lasting, timeless art rather than calm or harmonious creation. It is an absolute flow, a multidimensional and rather slow process; nothing like this has ever happened before. The paintings literally materialize through me into earthly reality. A very similar feeling occurs when I write poetry, leaving me thinking: 'How could I have written this?! It’s a masterpiece!'.

Devotion to my principles and love for the unearthly source of inspiration (though earthly ones exist too). Art and feelings are spheres where I must be completely real, or absent. Any distortion, any falsehood instantly voids the entire meaning. Just as a false note disrupts the harmony of a whole melody, following someone else's rules inevitably leads to a dead end

It is normal to acknowledge your difference from others, and it is normal to strive to preserve the order and purity of your inner world. What is not normal is elevating this into a hypertrophied form, and even more so, intruding into someone else’s life with your own rules. My 'freedom from material ambitions' implies that I have other sources and other ways of funding. But for those who do not, such an approach would be ruinous. As a pragmatist, I advocate for the most honest and objective perception possible.

The originals of my works are indeed not for sale, because I perceive the surrounding reality not as something confined to the limits of the material world and earthly dimensions, but as a universe with more fundamental goals and global standards. Through art, I want to elevate the highest values within people. I have a proven interconnection between the depth of my creativity and the selflessness of my intentions; furthermore, I possess the freedom not to worry too much about money.

Besides, summing it all up, as an observer of my own self, I am curious to see what lies beyond these initial coordinates: what scale of creativity is possible, what spiritual peak I will personally reach, and what real benefit will be brought to the world if I simply trust and follow these reference points? 'The goal of life is beyond life itself,' as Vladimir Tarasov once said, and those words fit perfectly. What is stopping me from fully immersing myself in the exploration of who I am and the entire boundless universe, since I have been granted such an opportunity?

For me, making art is by no means a simple task; almost every single time, I feel as though I am jumping into an abyss with unopened wings. And while an inner voice tells me everything will be fine, the process is often deeply transformational, bordering on emotional death and rebirth. It brings incredibly intense feelings—and a massive dopamine rush in the end!

So, I always know exactly who my painting is being created for—where it will restore balance, where its true place is, and where it will be more than just a pretty addition to a sofa. My art belongs to space, not the market. I refuse to contradict myself by selling something so profoundly meaningful, but I have no problem selling digital replicas and art products, as in those cases, the primary process has been completed correctly.

The calling of the soul is a very concrete factor in my understanding; arguing with it only makes things worse. Lately, I’ve been doing a lot of things intuitively, and quite unusual events have been unfolding. For me, living this way feels much more natural. I trust that I’ve made myself perfectly clear, haha. Thank heavens it’s perfectly normal for artists to be a little strange."

Of course. I do not accept extremes. And I don’t want to become a hostage to any ideas, even if they are my own, because anything good can be taken to an unhealthy degree. I know myself, I understand my values, and my creative path forward is definite and concrete—so why should I pretend to be socially inaccessible just to add an air of mystery? For what? I am perfectly content with how things are. I don’t use anonymity as a marketing gimmick, so it shouldn't cause me any inconvenience.

I enjoy exchanging visions with other artists and being accessible for exciting projects. Yes, I cut off certain opportunities for collaboration, but this is done to save time and to achieve the ultimate goal: the independence of my art from myself. Moreover, anonymity creates significant copyright challenges, and I still haven't figured out how to reconcile the two.

I have seen time and again that I unintentionally influence others to act against their true interests. Of course, one could argue that nothing happens by chance and that those people needed that exact experience, but I no longer want that. I don’t even want to be overly persistent anymore.

Gain, too, doesn't always have a positive side. I have won many times where, as it turned out later, winning wasn't worth it. And I regret the lost time of my life. That is why, unless it concerns something critically important, I prefer a gentle strategy. My position of restrained publicity is just an example of that.

Inspiration from the fruits of labor, yes—but not inspiration from how pleasing someone’s personality is or how grand their lifestyle looks (what exhibitions the Great HIM participated in, whose collections hold HIS paintings, or how immense HIS connections and power are in the art world). I already went through that stage of display and worship while launching my design courses.

It’s funny, but it feels as though I lived someone else's life for a while, and it completely convinced me that I am sick of publicity, positioning, playing the wise teacher, and so forth. That work never gave me a sense of true fulfillment, connection with like-minded people, or alignment with the right path. I gave myself to a random crowd, and that random crowd gave me a lot of money. And that was it.

Looking deeper into the situation, every person walks their own path, and no one can tell them how to act correctly to guarantee a satisfying outcome—to truly 'die with no regrets.' I recently asked my parents if they were happy with their lives, given that their youth coincided with the harsh 1990s, when all their energy went into the sheer survival of themselves and their children. They replied that yes, overall they are happy, because at every stage they did what they believed was necessary and right. This is a very profound realization.

Life may be far from perfect, but everyone should live by their own mind, their own heart, and their own soul, so there is no sorrow over squandered opportunities. I can only say this about myself with certain reservations. In some situations, I didn't choose the most fitting path, which led to difficult consequences. Because of this, I now avoid handing out advice or projecting someone else's experience onto my own.

Someone else might find it incredibly difficult to live by my philosophy, because their path may require developing the exact opposite qualities—publicity, a focus on earnings (say, if they are soft-willed and struggle to provide for their family), or reaching a less pretentious audience. I feel miserable when I waste my personal time on a social storefront when I don't truly want to—and I rarely do. I feel it when I am not developing my talents in writing and art, when I become too 'commercial,' and when I start using my mind solely for practical goals. It is obvious to me that my path is one of precise balance; it is easy for me to act calculatedly, it is easy to act absolutely altruistically to my own detriment, but it is deeply challenging to maintain a balance.

This is my heavy spiritual labor. That is why I try to separate them: time for the higher, the unearthly, the selfless, and time for meeting life's basic needs. Both must remain in their pure form, without any mixing. But I accept that later—once my soul rests from certain events—I will find a fitting way to be present. For now, I simply lack the emotional strength, and my seclusion is a temporary sanctuary.

Oh, I share many of her views! Especially her vision of a higher hierarchy, where certain spiritual guides invisibly maintain the balance on our planet. It’s a complex topic to discuss. But I have always had this sense of external observation and external regulation, as well as an awareness that I am somehow connected to them. When heavy events unfold on Earth, I find myself performing inexplicable acts of a spiritual order. I'm not certain I’m doing everything right, but I refuse to disgrace myself through faint-heartedness.

Perhaps one day I will meet my spiritual partner, someone with whom I can move forward. For now, I can only speak about this with my parents: they are exactly the kind of versatile, kindred people with whom I can discuss everything from health and spirituality to business and politics.

No, I don’t think so. If I were objectively wise, I would be content with myself and my life, but that is not quite the case. I want to fix a lot of things. Not to change them, but to rectify them, because initially, they were set up the wrong way. And I have many questions myself. In short, I don't feel I have the right to lecture anyone at all. Besides, the people who I believe do have every right to do so have also stepped away from the public eye (because 'we must learn to live independently').

And remember what Concordia Antarova believed: 'To think that you can elevate anyone to a higher worldview by introducing them to this or that truth—revealed to you through your own labor of love—is just as much of a delusion as trying to explain the beauty of a song to an unmusical person.' You won't really be understood anyway, because the person does not yet possess the matching experience. And if they do, any subtle hint will be enough for them; a teacher isn't even truly necessary.

I know many such people... and none of them seek to become anyone's mentor. If we reason from a mundane perspective—where spirituality manifested as 'unusual' abilities is seen as something extraordinary—then perhaps yes: there should be 'students' and 'teachers.' But everything depends on the angle of vision. Take a different conviction as an axiom, and the entire picture changes. There is no spirituality, there are no unusual abilities—we only use these terms because human language currently lacks the right concepts. In reality, it is simply the natural evolution of the soul. When a child is born and grows, taking their first steps... do they need a guru? Or are loving parents and favorable conditions enough? After all, it is just the norm.
And the most spiritual super-tool is always right here—it is our human body. When I perceive—not with the mind—the incredible images of non-human experience, such as when you distance yourself from the matter of time and events, from above it looks like our neurons, like the cosmic universes shared by NASA... We are all deeply holographic, so there is no point in seeking solutions from the outside. Start with yourself, with your body: it is a highly powerful teacher. There is no one among us who has outgrown its level. Because as soon as they do, they typically leave the Earth. Take Mikhail Stolbov, for example, who overcame the limitations of the collective mind and grew himself new teeth. Very soon after, he died at a drilling well. From the perspective of an ordinary person, it seems like mad fatalism, but it carries its own logic.

Ha! I will say more: everyone has these abilities active within them, which is plain to see from the outside, yet applying them often resembles trying to drive nails with a smartphone. As for me, I simply lack time. It feels like a sticky jelly—restricting, restricting, restricting... Though who knows, if I had that time and flew instead of running fast toward the place I am so drawn to, wouldn't my life have ended just as abruptly as Mikhail Stolbov’s? My family would have a terribly hard time coping with that.

Perhaps the answer lies in a very subtle form of pride—when you appear to act out of good intentions, striving to teach people what you have mastered yourself, but in reality, you are giving untutored minds knowingly dangerous tools. After all, Mikhail left records, and as far as I know, a detailed book was planned. Meanwhile, the person who was my instructor at 'Noosphere' (a clairvoyance development center) somehow hasn't progressed at all over the last ten years—if anything, the opposite happened. I, too, feel an overwhelming burst of happiness, awe, and an urge to share with others every single time. I have many such observations, and they all point to the same thing: you cannot learn to walk instead of a child; their muscles must grow strong on their own—through effort, through falls, through joint pain.

Speaking of children, they are so grounding! And my motherhood is just as sacred a service as art. Even more so. Far more so. Why did I want children so badly? Why do I want another child? Perhaps this desire is also a part of karma. For me, there is no other path than to learn to unite these polarities: the material world and unearthly experience, personal growth and responsibility to loved ones...

Right now, I continue to see etheric bodies (the glow around things), energy, and prophetic dreams—not extensively, but on the other hand, my focus has shifted toward the mental side: paintings, writing, rewiring the mind, and ethically influencing circumstances. It’s a long story, truly. No, I do not need a mentor, but people with whom I can discuss such experiences—definitely, yes.

Just as I decided to be more logical and down-to-earth, here comes the most mystical and incomprehensible topic of all (smiles). Honestly, this is a prime example of the soul’s voice—or Eternity itself—which has been pulling me toward China almost physically for the past couple of years. I don’t know who or what is calling me there, but the feeling is so powerful and uncompromising that the only option left is to follow blindly in trust. Looking deeper into the situation, there are actually some preconditions. I mean metaphysical preconditions that give me goosebumps and offer absolutely no clarity.

As a child, a strange memory often crossed my mind: a young woman in a closed red robe standing on the shore of a body of water under a bamboo umbrella. And since it was completely obvious to me what she was thinking and feeling, that woman, of course, was me. Later, I thought about this a great deal. It is astonishing that this memory didn't fade over time; on the contrary, it phosphoresces ever more vividly from the past into my current life, bringing with it a—not exactly pleasant—sense of deep incompleteness. It feels as though something could be done better, something could be rectified. But now, given the new circumstances, it will be harder to achieve than it was back then. Harder, but not impossible. And for some reason, it is utterly imperative that I make it in time.

A memory is merely a small point of entry; it can simply be taken as a given. But the calling feeling in my heart, this pulling attraction, this interdimensional hum... this vortex—it truly leaves no choice. 'Living Yin' emerged out of nowhere just as inexplicably. How could I, with my human understanding of the world, ever conceive something like that? Perhaps this is the key to the entire puzzle. The fact that while creating these paintings, I surpass earthly limitations in every way—with space and time dissolving, and an acute awareness of the multidimensionality of existence—proves that during those moments, I am either tuning into a certain flow or creating independently as a spiritual being.

'The Soul of Xifang' is the title of a specific artwork, a manifesto of a higher world order. Frankly speaking, when I first saw the building of the Sifang Museum, I didn't see the architecture itself; instead, I saw an immense white dragon soaring in the sky at the foot of Mount Laoshan. You know how it sometimes happens that you listen to someone's words, but perceive an entirely different meaning? This was exactly the same. I look at walls, windows, staircases, and corridors, but my consciousness reflects an ancient, snow-white dragon, familiar to me down to the smallest detail. A dragon whose movements fill the surrounding space with a crystal, life-giving energy that liberates me and halts that very vortex. I hear the indescribably beautiful sound of its slow heartbeat. And everything connected to it comes on its own—a poem, a painting, thousands of poems, and thousands of paintings... I am quite literally swept up by a certain wave, carried away, and integrated into the matrix of Sifang as part of a collective system. My consciousness reveals an image of truly astonishing alignment, where a massive, monumental spiritual structure gathers together in space, comes alive, and begins to move, its impact expanding on at least a planetary scale. I had heard this heartbeat before (of the world? of the Earth?), but I never even imagined where the source might be. So, it is at Mount Laoshan. We shall see what kind of picture these pieces will eventually form."

'The Soul of Xifang' ('The Blue Soul of White Xifang') is like a delayed echo from the Universe, responding to the manifestation of the primal essence of its creators. It must return to its primary source, that is all. It seems that doing so through me is the most fitting path for it. Once there, it will reveal the exact way it needs to be positioned. Since it already managed to gather itself together from thousands of fragments onto a single canvas, such a minor detail is well within its power. It may not happen overnight, but sooner or later, it will absolutely manifest.

For now, I have no idea how or to whom in Nanjing I will write my proposal: 'I seek no personal gain; I am giving this painting as a gift and request that my name not be disclosed in the public domain. Please take into account that this decision is not yours to make, for it is meant not for you personally, but for Xifang. I strive to honor the highest order, so "every thing must be in its proper place." With deep respect and reverence for your work, Kira Yagovkina.' I hope the final version turns out to be a bit more logical (very cheerful laughter)."

Everything we pour a piece of our soul into becomes, in one way or another, a vessel for energy—with all the corresponding consequences. In my own home, there can only be either my own paintings or digital replicas with calm, neutral themes. Otherwise, other works begin to project foreign dramas into my space and disrupt my order.

Unquestionably, any object of art reflects the personality of its creator, and a logical question may arise: what, then, sets my paintings apart—those created from a state of deep rebirth?...
No one has ever rejected my works, but it has happened that others intercepted them from the person I originally intended to give them to. Yet, isn’t it for the sake of the words, 'This is my painting, I will never give it to anyone!' that a true artist creates? Isn't it so that their art can drift freely in the ocean of life under its own name, finding itself wherever it is needed most?

My ultimate goal is the awakening of the highest creative meanings: the renaissance of a soul after pain, after destruction, after internal death. It is about a profound rebirth, and the human right to shape one's own destiny. This is my spiritual legacy, which I wish to pass on to humanity, unconditionally.

Ultimately, the answer to the question lies somewhere between the lines.

Quite. I feel a flow of raging, unearthly, dazzling white energy rushing through me, spreading across the entire planet, to all people, and to all the pain of the mundane world. It envelops this pain, restoring it to a state of balance, and temporarily reduces it to bearable levels. This is a very precise, brief description, because the exact same thing happens every single time. It is in these moments that I experience absolute alignment with my earthly purpose (beyond just gaining experience). However, during drone strikes—which have been happening daily as of late—this energy becomes entirely concentrated around me, my family, and my neighborhood. To my immense and deeply sad regret, I only have so much of it; I can only influence circumstances on a small scale.

(A look that says, "How do I even answer such a primitive question?")

Emm... a person should always strive for mental freedom; that is when many boundaries cease to be rigid, and you manage to do things that previously seemed stunning. Well, it was neat to see with my eyes closed. Back then, my sister and I were 'learning' together, and she could see too, though for some reason she doesn't remember it now. So, this ability is highly accessible.

However, it works completely differently, since you use not just your eyes as a visual organ, but your consciousness as well. The image is gathered 'from density'—more dots here, fewer dots there—and that is how you see the borders, without color. I say consciousness is involved because a number of things remain visible that you can see with normal sight too—like rays from your fingers, or subtle bodies. By roughly the same principle, I could feel the color of a surface with my hands; each color triggers a different sensation.

Truth be proud, though, now all of this seems not so much primitive, but currently unnecessary. That is why I am engaged in entirely different practices. A few times, I managed to achieve absolutely outstanding results regarding my body—I don't wish to go into detail—but this direction, much like influencing the events of my own life, inspires me far more at the moment."

Yes, like a ghost (laughter). I’m sorry, why do I find this so funny? No, I don’t freeze for an hour over every tube of paint, nor do I finish a piece with my chin trembling from emotional shock. Periods of receptivity alternate with quite pragmatic processes, but for me, the stage of the higher completion of a painting is definitely vital. It has to 'sound' absolutely pure—colors and forms must align into a single symphony. I need to receive an impulse of absolute harmony. How human is that?

Among artists, there are quite a few 'metaphysical' individuals whose worldview easily sweeps away conventional beliefs. Take Alexander Georgievich Traugott, for instance, who says he is never alone—significant people are always beside him, even those who have left this planet. To me, such a statement is entirely normal; I understand the 'mechanics' of the process. I am a human, and he is a human, but with a differently tuned mental 'matrix'

I dislike the distortion of concepts—that is something I can say for certain. When art is created solely for commercial purposes or to shock the public, one should state their position directly: 'I create visuals for money,' 'I use trends and reassemble other people's ideas,' 'I use shock value to gain fame,' and so on. From my perspective, these are all appropriate behaviors within the context of modern society. Even the most 'shocking performances' find their admirers and can have a healing impact, provided they carry creative meanings at their core.

But that is not art.

Because art is 'a goal beyond the goal': it is tied to the personality, yet extends far beyond it. It is manifested by time, yet it is timeless. And most importantly: it carries a higher (creative) meaning, yet in a sacred way, it transcends the boundaries of that meaning. Art is a flow state, one of the highest planes of existence available to a human being—when one creates not because of, but in spite of the events unfolding around them, because they simply cannot do otherwise, because if they didn't, they would be torn apart from within by something inexplicable.

A rope is just a rope.
A rope tied into an ugly knot and painted black is a performance.
A rope in the weathered hands of a woman looking at an unbearable, mandatory burden that will obviously kill her is art.

Art is a long-lasting, deep narrative that essentially requires no explanation.
Shocking outbursts are a frozen, superficial frame that is objectively unpleasant and demands a highly coherent explanation—one that the author does not always manage to deliver.

If we take the theme of military conflict, performance art would be: screaming people on fire, entrails, shattered bones, bleeding tanks, and anti-aircraft systems looking like mutilated human beings... Art would be the image of a father anxiously gazing into the distance at enemy planes from a house where his child plays carefree.

You’ve noticed how art critics love to dissect every single detail in a painting, haven't you? It is obvious that this is only possible when a multidimensional, thoroughly thought-out concept is present.

A true creator is slow and meticulous, as it is vital for them to convey the exact purpose, to affirm that very highest manifesto. A 'provocateur' is fast and spontaneous, as their goal is merely to capture a random, blurred flight of thought.

Furthermore, many people perceive art as a band-aid meant to heal their own wounds. It seems to them that if it triggers intense, shocking emotions, it somehow elevates them above their previous understanding of the world and helps solve their problems—be it proving their social significance, escaping loneliness, transcending their own limitations, or touching the unearthly and the divine...

But 'we are what we eat'—by constantly coming into contact with something radical, the mind becomes a hostage to shocking emotions: instead of refinement of perception, coarsening takes over. That is simply how the psyche is wired. Remember the photograph by David Seymour, where a young girl who grew up in a concentration camp draws a house on a blackboard, and you will understand what I mean. This unfortunate child had seen far too many 'shocking performances.' By the way, the photograph itself is art in its purest form, while the drawing on the blackboard is a performance.

When I saw 'Sifang,' when I felt its breath flying through thousands of kilometers to reach me, I saw what it was truly meant to be. It is an unfinished project. Yes, as a marketer, I could endlessly discuss the restructuring of the art market and present dozens of arguments as to why everything happening now is logical and fits perfectly into the new realities. But 'Sifang' stands apart, and it was unequivocally created for something far grander. Perhaps because its creator was trying to address certain personal questions through art. It is incredible that he flawlessly executed the most difficult part. That perfect, living, vibrating geometry should be played out in a completely different way; that place was intended to become sacred. Had it been what it was originally meant to be, the questions of financial self-sufficiency and visitor traffic would have simply dissolved into thin air. That place would change people not through shock, but through a next-level, unearthly awe—from having touched the genuine Yin and the genuine Yang.

But this realization came to me—to Kira Yagovkina—not to its creator. It came now, not back then. It came to... what end? I hope to get a clear answer to this question so I can live my life in peace. Because at the moment, 'Sifang' and everything connected to it are fueling me with some unthinkable, non-human energy. Given that I am currently undergoing a medical protocol and generally have a rather vulnerable constitution, this is incredible. As an artist, it is the most precious state to be in!

A performance is a rapid surgical intervention with unknown consequences.
Art is a subtle transformation through spiritual rebirth and deep feelings—sometimes painful, but always healing by their very nature. I do not like to inflict pain, and I do not like to experience unnecessary pain (there is enough of it as it is—my black humor, haha). That is why my paintings are geometric and abstract. They impact the psyche as gently as possible; they are deeply conceptual, meticulously calibrated, filled with creative meaning, and absolutely sacred. I was created not to multiply chaos, but to heal it.

And if you heal yourself — it’s art therapy. Yes.

Even though there are works created at the intersection of these fields, we must strive to maintain boundaries rather than blur them. Losing our selectivity leads straight to an existential vacuum. It’s a paradoxical situation in art where good intentions can bring about the exact opposite result.

On one hand, many look to art to expand their perception and learn to understand other points of view... "Art opens your eyes to different ways of looking at things... It teaches you to see the world through someone else's eyes, which is an essential skill for any leader" (as said by Paul Allen, co-founder of Microsoft). On the other hand, I deeply resonate with Viktor Frankl, who argued that art should elevate the human spirit rather than merely document or reproduce the ugliness of the world. Contemplating true beauty — whether in nature or great art — has the power to pull a person out of depression and an existential dead end.

Art is man-made nature. Just as nature doesn't guarantee it will heal, save, soothe, or nourish us, but still does so by returning us to authentic meanings — art, too, must calibrate our internal compass, not break it. It shouldn't turn a human into an omnivorous consumer of chaos, but rather refine and perfect their spiritual and personal standards. This is only possible when there is a clear boundary between the beautiful and the grotesque. After all, in real life, we don't sigh in admiration over a pile of manure, trying to analyze its shades and decode its hidden meanings. Why should it be any different with art?

However, there are exceptions to everything. And God forbid I turn into a closed-minded, stubborn critic! I am highly sensitive to artistic architecture and can accept that someone might love vague, blurred narratives just as much as I currently love rhythm and order. Remember what Wassily Kandinsky — the world-renowned Russian artist, art theorist, and a pioneer of abstract art — once said: "The beauty of form and color is in itself a sufficient aim of art."

I used to adore rounded, spherical shapes (I’m convinced our psychological state dictates our aesthetic choices). Yet, I don’t consider my past works to be art. They were spontaneous therapeutic emanations, as they don't meet any of the criteria of a true artistic work. The method of visual expression may change, but the inner foundation — the conceptual core — must remain clear and defined.

I’d ask them: "Please don’t fire them for this!" Just kidding. But honestly, I don't really care. Because some things will happen or won't happen regardless of the circumstances. Whether anyone thinks it makes sense or not, "The Soul of Sifang" will end up where it belongs sooner or later. This event already exists in time. Perhaps it will happen through a completely different institution. Time will tell. In any case, I have no intention of keeping this specific piece for myself; it is too powerful, and it must live its own life independently of me. The main thing is that my brain doesn't take this as a challenge or a puzzle... because then it will get a rush of excitement and start coming up with the most bizarre solutions!

This might not be the newest information about the Sifang Museum, but what I read leaves me feeling bewildered. I’m talking about the fact that it’s no longer a source of its original concept, but instead rents out its spaces for events. It probably happened under financial pressure, but still. Perhaps the Sifang space sent out a calling to me, but right now, I don't see any way to realize it. It feels too fantastic. All I can do is (mentally) stroke the snow-white Dragon and envelop it in living Yin. Maybe I won’t even write to Lu Xun, but to Steven Holl instead, because... Well, because (laughs)!

Because I cannot... absolutely under no circumstances can I put myself in the position of a suppliant or a seeker. It destroys me. I don’t even want to do too much convincing. In art, I can only exist where the space is already open for me. It’s doubtful that things will work this way in a system as complex as the Chinese art market, and Lu Xun is its direct representative. Besides, I love our special language with Sifang. The mind can analyze facts all it wants, but spiritually—right now, I am connected to it more than anyone else. I don’t want to disrupt that.

Steven Holl feels safer to me because he is an architect; he stands outside the artistic noise, and honestly... it’s not about cowardice. Lu Xun, how should I put it, has probably seen his share of mediocre works, and there's no guarantee his perception hasn't suffered because of it. Obviously, he is number one as the creator and owner of Sifang. But it matters to me that there is no professional burnout, no unpleasant things said—even if wrapped in polite terms—and no bureaucracy. I’m not sure he would understand my visual world; there is nothing shocking in it, it is quite gentle.

Ultimately, life itself will show the best way forward. In the end, the only thing I know for sure is that I am the only one in control of my life, and absolutely no one else. This applies to my artwork as well. And if I have decided that "The Soul" is going out into the world, then that is exactly what will happen. It might feel strange to see it in another museum, but it could happen. It didn't come into existence just to wait.

No, the liminality of the space must be preserved. Just like all the core meanings embedded by Lu Xun. Otherwise, its primal voice will vanish.

Sifang is not just another museum or an avant-garde building. It is not an ordinary art venue, nor is it an attempt to prove something to someone. Its internal concept is flawless. Therefore, all ideas should be aimed at manifesting and maximizing its original essence, rather than altering it to fit my personal views. As it is, I don't fully understand the boundaries of Chinese art legislation, so I cannot precisely formulate a request to the... "noosphere," as Vladimir Vernadsky used to say. Haha, sorry, I actually want to be more materialistic and explain things clearly. The brain can easily tune into any frequency, but I need concrete data to narrow down the results.

I am certain that its creator didn't actually want to just gather a collection of works by independent, prominent artists of his time. His goal is undoubtedly similar to mine (otherwise, Sifang wouldn’t resonate with me so deeply): to return people to authentic meanings through art. To pierce this emotional, mental, and spiritual blindness using the most soulful tool—art—and creations that break away from the mundane.

I think each of us is deceived about ourselves, believing we are objective in achieving our goals when, in fact, we become limited by our own ideas. Meanwhile, I would love to ask Lu Xun a few questions that (what arrogant Russian upstarts we are!) might remove these limitations. You know, there is a concept called upaya (Sanskrit for "expedient means") from Eastern philosophy. In astrology, it signifies a voluntary, conscious action to "pacify" complex planetary influences. Everything is so interconnected—our desires, our actions, and what ultimately must be achieved. But sometimes, it’s hard to see this ultimate path from the inside. Sometimes it remains unobvious even to the smartest people.

Of course, achieving this would have been easier back in 2013, but very little in time is truly irreversible. Sifang itself provides all the answers. That white building—there is nothing crazy or radical about it. Yet, it strikes and captivates you, leaving no one indifferent. Its inner content simply needs to match its outer expression, that's all.

Therefore, my ideas regarding marketing promotion merely reflect my familiarity with the Russian legal framework, so there is no point in voicing them. But as for the exhibitions—how fortunate that Mr. Lu Xun will never hear these words—the overwhelming majority of them seem to me to fall short of Sifang’s level.

I am watching the art world transform—a process that seems completely natural to my subjective view. Yet, no one in this world has ever done what Lu Xun did. He is one of a kind, and his museum is one of a kind; it must always stand apart from the industry's constraints. There are always things that defy general rules and successfully forge their own history. But to achieve this, a manifested authenticity is required.

And so, I am wrapping up my monumental introduction and moving on to the main topic (smiles). But first, a question: if Kazimir Malevich's "Black Square" is the "zero of form" and supposedly proves that form and color are enough for art, does an empty frame, spinning from the wind in the middle of a gallery, become an even more outstanding work? Or perhaps we should go even further and abandon the concept of place entirely? Truly, why these limitations? An empty room where the Great Nothingness is located somewhere. In fact, even the room isn’t particularly necessary... This is how we reach the point of absurdity, excluding the concept of selectivity from the general formula (which is why I actually like the duct-taped banana).

What, then, truly rips a human consciousness out of reality and leaves it stunned in the best possible way for a long time? Certainly not colored, crushed pasta labeled as contemporary art. Not canvases splashed with paint cans, nor the intentionally ugly distortion of things familiar to us. As someone who cannot imagine life without a vivid "metaphysical" experience, I can give a very concrete answer: that thing is the PHYSICAL AND SPIRITUAL LAWS that transcend the ordinary. Because what every person wants most is not to simmer in habitual, petty distortions, but to touch the creative, monumental cosmological processes still unknown to science.

When I gave birth to my daughter, for some time I could hear the songs of whales—it was a special, extra magic, incomparable to the most radical performance. Yet it’s so simple—just beyond the realm of physics.

Honestly, how can anyone not understand what Sifang is supposed to be?

Yes, it is still filled with open space, heightening the surrealism of everything that unfolds. But its installations... they blow your mind by joining incompatible things and bringing impossible phenomena to life. These are canvases pierced by beams of light—fragmented, split into multiple pieces at different angles, seamlessly transitioning into the walls and ceiling. These are geometric interior lamps, resembling mountain crystals, whose beginning and end are impossible to trace, completely transforming the space. This is a whimsical interaction of typography and vector lines suspended right in mid-air, staggering in their collective harmony. This is a striking play of forms in wall art objects that, from afar, turn a section of the gallery into a sea or outer space, but up close, reveal themselves to be a formless, colorless grey Nothingness.

It engages every single sense: wind, warmth, cold, sound, scent... We are talking not just about multisensory synthesis, but rather about synesthesia and the recreation of another reality. Light and water that flow in ways we aren't used to; surfaces that move and even "breathe like a living creature"; levitating artifacts; furniture with a peculiar, unearthly ergonomics; mirrors that startle you (you open a mysterious door, and there—BAM, it’s YOU, looking gorgeous); installations that break off mid-way, smoothly blend into others, or dissolve into their components. And all of this is precise, meticulous, visually balanced, and in synergy with one another. And ideally—tactile, open to the touch.

A person becomes involved in the ultimate exploration of the mind through the perception of irrational things and phenomena. Not social drama, societal issues, or shocking events, but consciousness itself and one's higher Self.

I wish I could transmit these images telepathically, but alas! For now, AI understands me best, so we’ve generated a bunch of references together, haha. I want so badly to hold onto this magic and immerse myself in it. Though even AI falls short of Sifang... There, one could encounter unusual objects with non-obvious yet clearly logical purposes, forcing viewers to stare and ponder endlessly—WHAT IS THAT? Plus, an absolutely incredible mix of different materials. And all of this would also live a life of its own, through live plants, AI devices, mystical silhouettes, and all kinds of "unexplained" phenomena, like whispers in the language of another civilization.

Yeah, and another 200 million dollars! It’s actually "hilarious." I have absolutely no idea how much it could cost. Of course, I would prefer artists driven by ideas rather than commercial success, but the materials, the installation, and the necessary technical background (like parametric speakers, magnetic modules, and so on) will still require financial investment. Naturally, such a concept is unlikely to be realized, but that’s okay. For me personally, it already exists and is accessible at any time—I can visit it, find inspiration, draw ideas from it, and all the rest. The world will create something like this when it’s ready. In the meantime, I’ll just peacefully keep on painting.

Thank you for the kind words! I feel like those who completely deny using AI, someone else’s ideas, or global artistic developments are intentionally misleading people. Creating something completely independent is simply impossible. Moreover, making art doesn't turn a person into a creature detached from society—we still think in categories we’ve known since birth—but it actually strengthens the expression of one's own cultural background.

Frankly, I am against intentional deception. Like when an artist copies an AI-generated image built on someone else's work, but claims they came up with it all on their own. But I am not against using AI references—especially those generated using your own images, since that is essentially the result of your personal labor wrapped in technology. Why not? Historically, artists have always used the breakthroughs of their time.

In my case, it's more complex. I love AI—that’s true. Especially its unparalleled ability to speak freely and deeply on any topic. So, of course, I use it to create images for Pinterest and for creative inspiration. But as it turns out, copying anything is just impossible for me—AI images somehow lack a certain "resonance," even though they can be beautiful and perfect. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s not about the forms or colors. The resonance appears only when I interact with the world as a whole, not just within the boundaries of AI.

So, there is quite a mix of everything in my work: nature photography, abstract and geometric shapes, gradients, graphics, inspiration from other artists' work (though rarely), music, various otherworldly plots, randomly spotted ideas, and occasional AI references. Sometimes I ask AI to generate a specific element for a painting; it creates something completely wrong, but in the process, I suddenly realize exactly what I actually need. In any case, perception works on a broader scale. No, I don’t want to reject scientific achievements. And the fact that we need to use science wisely, without blowing it out of proportion, has been clear for a very long time.

Fearing I’ll ruin my visual taste—just kidding! Honestly, everything is just so repetitive, you can't help it. I rarely admire the actual plot; instead, I'm usually drawn to the scale or pure technical skill. Unfortunately, people rarely truly observe. The world is so diverse, yet the art scene relies on the same old ways to capture it. Identical sunsets, identical seas, the same contemporary art, and the same avant-garde...

Plus, I miss deeper, transhuman meanings. I’m tired of the endless deep-dives into everyday human drama and mental illness. I want to see an ability to look beyond the boundaries of our familiar human world.

Firstly, it is deeply intimate. While painting, I dance, I sing, sometimes I cry or laugh, and I talk (I won't say to whom)... I listen to music, burn incense, drink endless cups of tea, re-evaluate moments from my past, frequently change the lighting—I have many different lamps—and move the canvas to a cozier spot. In a word, it is a time of ultimate communion with the divine, a time when I exist in my true, otherworldly state. No one can witness this; it would instantly disrupt the connection. This is how I rest from the constraints of the human world. Moreover, it is solitude that primes the brain for new technical breakthroughs: how to capture a vibrating hue, how to forge a mystical depth, how to balance the earthly and the sublime, or how to create something that has never been created before... "Be alone, that is the secret of invention; be alone, that is when ideas are born." (Nikola Tesla quote).

Secondly, I don’t want to waste energy on actions that serve no purpose for me. If I depended on the quantity and quality of a target audience—as I did in previous projects—I would probably dedicate time to that. But right now, my focus is entirely on the purity of art: I strive to minimize any distortion of the images that come to me on their own.

In reality, it is quite challenging to combine both the spiritual and financial aspects in one's work. A commercial mind finds it difficult to grasp the subtle gradations of higher realms, just as a soul dwelling in the immaterial world finds it almost impossible to understand the value of mundane, everyday dreams. That’s why I try to keep them separate; otherwise, everything goes completely sideways.

Sometimes the mind doesn't manage to "switch" modes in time and, for a while, perceives earthly problems through a "spiritualized" lens, or vice versa—views a spiritual state with a purely earthly mind. It's quite terrifying in both cases (laughs). Because after you’ve just interacted with thousands of projections of your own soul, any worldly problems seem not just insignificant, but completely meaningless to even think about or try to solve. Even death feels like nothing more than a fleeting transition of some part of me from one state to another. In the exact same way, an earthly perception of a transhuman experience makes you question your own mental stability. Though, I am certain this can all be explained through physics and neurobiology as well.

Perhaps astrology is what describes a human being best, even though the modern world is going through a phase of rigid division into the scientific and the "unproven."
Astrologically, my Sun is in Virgo (practicality, precision, attention to detail) and my Ascendant is in Pisces (mysticism, empathy, intuition). And indeed, one of my life’s purposes is learning how to integrate both sides so that they don't exclude but rather amplify each other. That’s why there is a time for art—painting and writing books—and a time for tasks, business, and creating merch.
In astrology, Pisces is the twelfth and final sign of the zodiac, ruling over the dissolution of the ego, mysticism, the ocean of the subconscious, secrets, and the absolute void from which everything is born. Furthermore, Pisces is the sign of ultimate Yin (receptive, feminine, passive energy). But still—no looking allowed!

It’s highly unlikely. I already know what I will be working on next, and these are going to be absolutely spectacular pieces. I doubt I would ever want to transfer assets like that to anyone else. Unless, by some chance, my client happens to cover my weak spots.

It’s actually quite funny, but I constantly dream of finding myself in a place completely detached from reality: deeply secure, surrounded by nature, and highly comfortable for everyday life. At the same time, this is rather difficult to reconcile with the needs of a young child. Like any loving mother, I am entirely ready to sacrifice everything for the well-being of my children, but sometimes it is excruciating. I don't know if there is a solution to this; life is a very strange thing.

When I was preparing for my university entrance exams, I naturally did all the calculations without a calculator. And at one beautiful moment, I realized that I wasn't actually counting large numbers anymore—my brain was merging color clouds, resulting in a new shade, which translated into a highly precise number. Later, I dropped mathematics, and that ability vanished. There have been far too many situations like this in my life for me not to want to do something similar with fine art now. The rarest scarcity of all is mental freedom.

What difference does it make what form I clothe it in? Of course, it will be something at the intersection of styles, geometry, and the avant-garde—something simultaneously incomprehensible yet carrying a definite intent. Works possessing their own internal resonance. And dimension. I love it when you can look "deep" into a painting, like looking into a stereo image or a photo/video. Although, I think "Living Yin" and "Sifang" will leave me no choice. It is such an opportunity to escape the "human" feeling—to totally transport oneself into another dimension for a while. I am constantly amazed by the depth and authenticity of this state, and I will never willingly give it up.

While I am wrapping up the Yin series (4 pieces and 1 miniature), hundreds of references in my head are continuously merging into new images. Most likely, I will start with a complex piece that will represent some kind of spiritual construct. I am certain that such things exist, and I would love to materialize these sensations.

Imagine if you asked the heart: "From the outside, it seems you are consciously distancing yourself from the brain. But when choosing a global direction, why did your gaze fall on the right hand instead of the left?!" I am not speaking in allegory at all.
My empathetic pain stems precisely from the horrific modern fragmentation of humanity, whereas it is actually a single organism where people are living cells—different in their structure, yet united in their purpose. If certain cells in an organism begin to attack others, destruction awaits everyone.

But we are all subject to our time. I do not want to gift myself and my art to countries by whose malicious intent terrorist attacks are committed in my Homeland. Yes, art, sports, and health should be above politics. They should be. But facts are stubborn things. And I do not like to deceive myself; if necessary, I will do what needs to be done. Of course, it could easily happen that someone's incredible personality captivates me from a professional standpoint, and my boundaries will dissolve on their own.

It is not possible benefits or stability that draw me to China, but a profound inner resonance and a generally warm, friendly attitude toward the people of my nation. Every country has its own struggles, but in this life, only two places truly suit me.

I find what is happening right now rather repulsive... all this madness where artists are forced to obsess over self-promotion rather than their professional growth. The collusion, the legalized bribery—I’m talking about the costs to participate in exhibitions, that kind of commercial sell-out. Does it differ much from the reality in China? Perhaps. But I see the future of art in returning its sacred meaning, and through that, uniting people across the globe. I know many artists who form local, small communities where a beautifully pure, non-commercialized atmosphere thrives.

At the same time, humanity does not live by bread alone, and it is vital for many to be compensated for their labor. Therefore, we absolutely need a global, international, yet deeply personalized platform with a well-thought-out ecosystem. One that addresses existing flaws and keeps people focused on art itself rather than overinflated authorities, marketing, money (a price ceiling is definitely required), ratings, or likes. Perhaps there would be a limit on the number of works available for viewing. Perhaps it would utilize interactive tools like color tests or synesthetic connections (resonance, words, concepts, etc.) with the art objects, instead of displaying prices and artist biographies.

Observing how things stand in different countries, I feel a greater potential in China. At the very least, art creators there are treated with more delicacy. No, please don’t mistake me for a curator or an art historian. I am evaluating the situation from the perspective of an artist who loves to be ahead of her time and combine diverse approaches for the common good. On the whole, I am entirely comfortable with a future where China takes the lead while Russia becomes the epicenter of spiritual meaning. That would perfectly align with the core nature of our nations.

I went on maternity leave. Though, of course, that wasn't the primary reason. But considering our dialogue will be published strictly on private resources, I can share this: unfortunately, during my pregnancy, I had to face the most traumatic experience for any woman—the betrayal of my partner. To protect and save my baby, I was forced, on a hormonal level, to accept the situation in a way that would stop it from being physiologically dangerous to me. I think things like that make a person strong... incredibly strong, but they never pass without leaving a trace.

People take up a tremendous amount of energy and time, not to mention all the technical aspects. Back then, I simply didn't have enough resources for everything, though I fully honored my commitments to my clients by shifting the club into a more peaceful, low-maintenance mode. But later, naturally, after my daughter was born, the emotional backlash of all that suppressed pain hit me. I cried so much—just an ocean of tears. And a very strange thing happened: along with the pain, a lot of my feminine and human needs were accidentally washed away in those tears. This doesn't hinder my life. I prefer never to look back at the past, no matter what happened there. But for now, I simply don’t feel any desire to connect with people on a mass scale. In the end, it’s probably for the best, because that energy still found its outlet—specifically, in my new artistic style. I used to paint completely differently.

But we will definitely discuss a possible perfect future. Knowing myself, one day I’ll want to try something monumental again. When the time is right. And I hope it will connect both Russia and China.

It feels somewhat awkward to speak about this in human language, because our brains operate within familiar categories. When faced with something unknown, the mind tends to reject it as potentially dangerous.

In my youth, I wandered quite far in my spiritual quests... especially after training at a center for psychic practices. By that, I mean a place where one can commune with the deceased, where time flows not linearly but radially, as it were, and where you can understand any language without a translator. I still have notebooks from that time—and I’m not sure they should ever be revealed to humanity at all. Back then, I realized a simple truth: I came here to live as a human being. The reason I was "thrown" into this world was precisely because I needed to gain human experience—one that was complex and not entirely welcome at the moment. But just because you stop focusing on something doesn't mean it ceases to exist. It goes nowhere; it merely adopts a more accessible form.

Simply put, those metaphysical phenomena transformed into prophetic dreams, books, poetry, paintings, and specific practices. But the source remained the source—it fuels everything, including my inspiration. Now I realize I have come quite close to the line where I can finally merge earthly life with various metaphysical skills. I am so eager to see how this will manifest in my art. Though, this final stage might prove to be the most challenging. I lack a love for humanity.

Maybe they are paranormal to some, but to me, they are just normal. Taoism explains this perfectly: your abilities grow alongside your level of spirituality (or responsibility). That is why it often happens that these skills appear and disappear. Everything depends on your state. I definitely lack a love for humanity because in this world, full of chaos and cruelty—when UAVs fly over your house, air defense is active, and the criminal world is in full bloom—it is hard to read the news and maintain peace of mind at the same time. I haven't evolved that far yet. Or maybe I haven't learned how to balance it with empathy. But I hope that soon I will evolve and never have to return here again.

Without a detailed discussion of cooperation terms, feedback, and absolute trust in my work. I also dislike strict timeframes and organizational interference.
Especially the former.
Especially if I need to come up with something truly outstanding.
"True innovation is impossible under tight deadlines." (as said by M. Cavaneau, former lead designer at Apple). However, I usually clarify all terms in advance, so misunderstandings are out of the question.

In reality, ideal conditions are not always possible, and one can make compromises for the sake of an exciting project. But two things are non-negotiable and unchangeable for me: quietness at night (no dorms or shared accommodation) and the ability to bring my daughter with me in case of business trips. She is 5 years old now, and I am not ready to be separated from her for long. Ideally, a pool nearby wouldn't hurt, as I love to swim, but those are just details.

I’d rather reveal the expected one, as it is of paramount importance.

I consider self-respect, and consequently respect for another individual, to be the foundation of human relationships. Therefore, there can be no violation of personal boundaries and no ambiguity.

Although... people are imperfect, no matter how hard they try. So, I forgive slips and try to talk things through—up to a certain limit. If that limit is crossed, that person is irreversibly erased from my reality. Forever.

Give me what you wish to receive from me. As the author of "Living Yin"—by my very nature, I am an absolute mirror. I will accept and return it multiplied. Nothing personal.
Once, I read the words describing Frank Cowperwood and realized that Theodore Dreiser (author of The Trilogy of Desire) must be a Virgo by horoscope, because only Virgos think this way: "He knew how to value exceptional ability, and he was always willing to play fair if the game was fair. Otherwise, his subtlety was limitless." Fortunately, Virgos are calculating creatures and do not waste energy on insignificant events.

In the context of professional relationships—absolutely. Moreover, my "mental" perception implies that I fulfill my commitments as well. And honestly, what is wrong with maintaining boundaries and chain of command?

In reality, it is quite difficult to start a collaboration with me, simply because I don’t really need anything from anyone. I paint otherworldly pieces, and my talent will continue to unfold—I have immense potential and am fully aware of my value within the context of global art. On the other hand, a potential decline in my living conditions is what truly causes concern. Therefore, I can only work with a highly mature, wise client. I will tell them everything upfront, they will understand it perfectly, and we will both be satisfied with each other. In my case, only good stories are allowed to happen.

By describing the inner philosophy of the project. This is paramount. I make decisions solely based on personal resonance. Beyond that, my manipulative client must understand that if they expect outstanding work from me, it is vital to maintain warm professional relationships, be tactful when views diverge, and financially compensate my labor in accordance with the contract. My Virgo brain—quite the litigious one—is just as much of a given as my soul directed toward higher meanings. It is usually focused on minor details, but if you anger it...

I am unlikely to be interested in ordinary, mundane projects, but there can always be exceptions. I could paint the walls of a cancer center for free, or decorate a room for a child who cannot walk. Or it could be a very modest fee for an ordinary person whose elderly mother wished with all her heart to have one of my paintings in her home.

But if we are talking about total fusion, about what truly inspires me and leads me forward, it is unequivocally global conceptual projects—multidisciplinary and long-term, where the spiritual prevails over the earthly and where cutting-edge technologies are utilized. However, if the conditions are harsh, it is unlikely to work: I am a greenhouse plant, and it would be foolish to prove otherwise at the cost of my health.

Hmm, it might sound arrogant, but I would ask to alter a few karmic laws in this reality. For instance, so that children would never suffer—not for their lineage, not for their parents, not for their mistakes in a past life, and not for violations in lifestyle, diet, or ecology. Because children cannot change anything on their own. They can only endure. Children's pain is a totally horrific phenomenon. And it is so unbearable for adults that it generates endless chains of suffering. I don’t know who came up with this, but after my death, I will file a complaint with the supreme ministry regarding such a perversion; there are thousands of ways to teach people without involving children.

But if the wish had to apply to me personally, I would wish for strength. It’s not easy to have such a vulnerable body that requires silence, clean air, a special diet, and a thousand other conditions that are hard to secure in a city environment. A sort of tropical flower. Everything else, I would do myself. I am not afraid of labor, commitments, or multifaceted responsibilities, but I truly lack the strength. I constantly have to balance and choose—and I am so tired of it.

No, please, don’t idealize me, I don't want to live up to it (laughs)! It is a comfortable social mask for me, nothing more. So there are no contradictions. At home, I usually walk around with a hair bun, in comfy clothes, and spend a lot of time lounging somewhere with tea, my laptop, and headphones. And I find it very hard when people violate my personal space after work.

Imagine if your senses—hearing, sight, smell, taste, touch—were heightened to the absolute limit. I once read an article stating that this has a genetic explanation. It’s quite challenging to live with. The world is so noisy, un-aesthetic, smelly (haha), and completely inconsiderate of personal boundaries.

Yes, of course, I live in my own, more complete reality where many things are a given. For instance, I can tell by smell whether a person is healthy, if food was grown naturally, or if something extra was added to the gas at a petrol station. But on the whole, it’s like living with raw, exposed nerves. You could say I’ve only recently learned to somehow coexist with all of this. So publicity is just a temporary role; my reality is full of avoiding triggers and leveling out my balance. I’d say that putting on a display of confidence drains my strength, and I absolutely despise being watched. I suppose I’ve said enough to rule out my participation in public activities, haven’t I? (laughs)

Yeы. It’s a long story...

Overall, I try to channel all that cognitive overload into my creativity—poetry, books, paintings. It really seems to be the solution.

Yes. With one clarification: I don’t just believe, I know, because I feel their presence. The ultimate traits of "my" people are a gentle attitude toward others (in deeds, in words) and resilience. And, consequently, spiritual recognition. My people recognize me just as I recognize them: we can be completely different in our views and habits, but we share the same language of understanding the world. Besides, I don’t see very well from a distance anyway!

Unfortunately, I don’t encounter them often. Therefore, if a person simply tries to be tactful, that is enough for me to have a good, long-lasting relationship. But in Russia, even tactfulness is a rare phenomenon. I can tolerate it once, twice, or even a thousand times. I will warn them and try to guide the communication into a respectful channel, but after that, such a trigger is permanently removed from my world, and I no longer feel anything toward them.

Few people in the world get lucky with this. A person can achieve almost anything through the sheer effort of their own will, but not this. And while men have the luxury of waiting, a woman—if she wants to have children—is entirely at the mercy of her biological clock. No one can tell you in advance if you will meet your person early enough, or if you will meet them at all.

I don’t know the answer to this question. I only know that you should never despair or play the 'happy loner' who doesn't need love. It makes sense to search until the very end. Never tolerate, never settle. After all, no one will ever appreciate your true love and kindness if they are not your person. No matter how beautiful, talented, or smart you are. Your strengths will seem like a minor function to them; you will slowly start to burn out, while they will think you are blowing conflicts out of proportion. Not because they are bad (or 'toxic'), but because you are two parallel universes that will never intersect.

Perhaps the most reasonable approach is to do what the Buryat people do. In their culture, it is believed that the souls of spouses are karmically linked from past lives, and it’s better to build a strong family later in life than to rush and destroy the harmony of the lineage with a divorce. Of course, the modern generation no longer performs rituals or compares astrological charts (though that’s a fascinating topic), but they truly do not rush. I know an example of such a late meeting.

I think, at the very least, he won't be a provocateur of pain. Lately, I’ve been thinking that the reason I haven't met him yet might be because he is not in Russia. He will likely combine quite polar opposite sides as well, but more successfully than I do. And if he wants something from me, he will either tactfully say it upfront or use the right kind of gentle manipulation.

Unfortunately, historically, Russian men are placed on a pedestal from childhood by their 'Soviet' mothers, who were used to carrying everything on their own shoulders and living like domestic staff within their own families, quietly solving all complex issues. All of this just to avoid bruising his nervous ego. They expect the exact same from their daughters-in-law and instill this mindset in their sons. As a result, in difficult situations, a woman is forced to play the male leadership role—after all, someone has to do it.

Frankly speaking, I am done playing these games. It’s not to say that I’ve become feminist-leaning—not at all, I am still a proponent of the patriarchal order—but the men of my nation no longer pass the entry criteria. Sadly, they no longer seem attractive to me even for friendship; only maximum-distance professional relationships are possible now.

Regarding his presence in the art scene... I think, at the very least, he will be loyally supportive, capable of not interrupting discussions about art with a remark about how uninterested he is. In the end, it all leads back to maturity and balance anyway.

When I was studying at the university (MIET), I was acquainted with its former rector (Vitaly Dmitrievich Werner). I often visited him, and we talked about various things... It is a pity I was too young and lacked the experience to bring up deep topics, but the scale of his personality was obvious to me even then. Was he handsome? He had the ordinary appearance of a 70-year-old person. But I didn't see his age or his facial features at all. Only the mind, the heart, the gaze, the sensation. He has long been gone from this Earth, but his warmth, respect, and connection remain with me. Appearance matters to me, but not in the way one might think. Not the shape of the lips or the color of the eyes. But the facial expression, the posture, the movements, the intellect, the soul... Vitaly Dmitrievich did not suppress; he enveloped you in his depth and delicate treatment—for me, that is entirely enough for the most devoted relationship.

No, that is definitely not for me. By 'soft manipulations,' I always mean not attempts to change a person for one's own benefit, but rather creating the kind of conditions under which they would realize that a certain common goal aligns with their true intentions as well. And that it will lead to an even greater satisfaction with life. This is a careful, gentle way of achieving a final outcome, whereas manipulation in the conventional sense implies a harsh intervention into someone else's world, requiring constant control. Because in reality, you cannot change anyone.

It’s neither good nor bad—it is simply a definition! People so rarely use anything correctly. What can I say? Naturally, my reasoning is based on personal experience. It would be wonderful to get by without it, but I’m afraid that is impossible in the human world. Therefore, it is better to manipulate gently than to let things escalate into a conflict.

It is what it is.

Perfect days happen when I visit my parents. There, you can freely move between the house and nature: swim in the pool, sit by the fire, listen to the rain and the rustle of the trees, play chess, ride a bicycle, cook, and chat with everyone in the living room, or plant things (I have my own personal, shameful garden bed)... For flawless harmony, I would also add some personal time and an afternoon rest.

However, it should be noted that during my childhood and youth, I moved around a lot and took part in business-related events (my parents worked in different cities and loved to travel), so staying in one place for too long feels rather dreary to me. Because of this, days spent in the mountains (Rosa Khutor), at an art exhibition, or simply on the road are just as perfect.

Quite recently? Mm... Speaking of Sifang—and this whole strange, inexplicable story—I just remembered that about a year ago, I started writing a Xianxia novel titled The Traditional Annual Soul Scattering. It’s incredibly bizarre that one of the main characters there has almost the exact same name as the creator of the Sifang Museum—literally the same initials: L.X. Back then, I spent a long time picking out not just any name, but something that truly 'resonated,' something that would live in the story on its own and be easy to interact with.
The coincidence is also that in my book, L.X. is a representative of an immortal, higher race (six-legged sacred pigs—sorry, haha, that was a total flight of fancy) and frequently performs actions that are incomprehensible to the majority, yet full of deep meaning within the context of a long timeline. Another coincidence is that in my story, he is fabulously wealthy, and because of this, many people 'kiss his ass' (oops!) and try to get something out of him. It’s a coincidence that he lives in a rather strange place and... is sometimes quite loyal to ambiguous people. Even the house itself is atypical for Chinese architecture—different tiers of rooms, all sorts of walkways... and a forest nearby filled with disgusting 'monsters' that my heroine loved to play with during her childhood (after her rebirth). And if you take, for example, the slightly crazy 'Nanny Tian,' L.X. was gentle with her not because he was genuinely fooled by her behavior, but because he saw a good potential that could be manifested and realized with his help. In the book, he is more of a strategist and a pragmatist; he’s just not inclined to explain his motives to every passerby.

I don’t know if this is also a coincidence, but in The Traditional Scattering, L.X. has a rather ironic character; he is, in a way, always above events—from the perspective of his position (in the immortal world, he is the underworld judge, Bao Zhan) and his thousands of years of experience. In fact, his character is written very well, and I dropped the sequel solely because I couldn't visualize him. Nothing seemed to fit. I cannot just invent a story the way it’s commonly done—making a plot outline, details... I need to step into the flow and experience the same creative nirvana as I do in fine art. The only thing that came to mind was a sensation.

This and everything else gives birth to an amazing feeling that I am connected to Sifang more than anyone else. Ultimately, what difference does it make to me who created it and what is happening in reality right now, if these incomprehensible things are happening to me? I can even feel how the wind blows on Laoshan and how the air vibrates there. What would Bao Zhan say to me about this? Probably nothing, he would just smile—ever so slightly, like this—and look with that gaze that says, 'I know more about you than you know about yourself,' and simply transport me somewhere to show me something. In The Traditional Annual Soul Scattering, he often did exactly that. Not exactly the type who likes to talk all the time.

Yes. In one of the worlds, this story is already finished and is always with me—it only remains to write it down. Being the 'Omnipresent' Goddess—now it’s clear to me that this signifies Pure Yin—she engaged in a battle with Xiwangmu due to her disagreement with the cruel karmic laws (I still agree with her, as you already know) and lost, losing absolutely everything: her body, her spirit, her memory... Where she perished, a small acacia leaf happened to 'accidentally' be, which preserved a tiny part of her immortal essence, and Bao Zhan managed to keep her from vanishing completely. After a thousand years of dwelling within the heart of Judge Bao, she was reborn as a little girl (to whom he gives the childhood name Jiayang) without a single hint of memory. Yet she still had neither a body nor a spiritual component—all of this was sustained by L.X.

Then comes the unfolding of the main plot, when—due to an unfulfilled contract from the past—she ends up in a rather sinister 'institution' that collaborates with the high officials of ancient dynasties. There, they turn her into Li Qiu, a formation designed to scatter people who don't fit into the system. However, as a former goddess, she cannot kill anyone, so she preserves everyone inside herself (there is no description yet of how she does this). This becomes an excruciating yet routine part of her life, and she grows accustomed to her formless essence. In short, a tremendous amount of events unfold, but in the end, she performs an absolutely massive reverse action by reincarnating the scattered people and finally altering some of the karmic laws—mainly to save Bao Zhan, who went too far in his mercy. Since this strictly contradicts the higher order, she completely dissolves into the space over the sea (why does this happen over a sea with pink sand?), and her final words echo as a whisper: 'Take me.' The Judge himself also comes to understand things about himself, the world, and Jiaoyue that are entirely different from the beginning. Essentially, the end of the book is the beginning of an opportunity to replay it all. Because despite all the mistakes, they were guided by the highest, entirely selfless aspirations. To be honest, there is a continuation, but for now, it remains hazy.

Considering he surely had the pleasure of encountering some of the most mentally unstable creators in this world? I hope he would do without comparisons (laughs)! Although, most likely, his reaction would be just like the sacred tree Shan-Kayan when it saw Ciri: 'What are you?!'.

Yes!

Wow! Let me think... (looks thoughtfully out the window)

I hope this doesn’t sound too detached, but I have a hidden endeavor dedicated to protection and restoration. It’s hard to explain—both the meaning and the feasibility. But this spiritual work is ongoing. I restore plants, animals, sick children... to extend their vital resource... some adults, burned forests, deceased animals. There are many in my heart whom I nourish. Those who can perceive energies say that this is deeply felt. Sometimes my actions are strictly metaphysical—involving projections, rewriting the event timeline, and closure within space-time frameworks. Sometimes they are empirical, when you instantly transmit a volume of pure energy. Occasionally, it is right to do both. Most of the time I act alone, but I can affirm that there are quite a few people like this—some are known to me—and in certain cases, they join forces, such as in the event of military conflicts or global wildfires. The collective mind determines the outcome of many events.

Good question. Everyone must be aware of the finitude of their resources. As a rule, I receive everything I need from the outside—from nature, the Cosmos, my connection with the divine. If there is a deficit, this activity is automatically put on pause. However, recently—while working on 'The Soul of Sifang'—certain changes have begun to take place: something resembling the self-generation of energy. How is this possible? But this is still in its very infancy.

Sifang—yes. And Lu Xun—yes. But other than that, the focus right now is on highly energy-draining things. My city. My country. Because of what is happening right now.

Of course. The White Moon (Selena) in the 8th House in Scorpio: an immunity to darkness. Stay close, and my presence will protect you.

(Smirks) You may: September 6, 1985, at 19:05 PM, in Solnechnogorsk. Let me know if you find any interesting parallels.

Irmina, thank you for your interest in my work and for the opportunity to create a 'freeze-frame' of my creative journey. Your questions highlighted certain moments for me that are definitely worth doing differently. It will be interesting to return to this interview in about five years and see what has changed.