Sound sculpture made from metal, gypsum, foam, plastic, moss, rubber, sleeves, glass, light neon

What began as an intimate cartography of emotion — mapping feelings through sound associations and corporeal sensations — transformed into something altogether more liminal. This work inhabits the threshold between memory and prophecy, between the tactile and the imagined.

At its core lies an object that exists in the space of perpetual becoming: a heart sculpted from crumpled plastic that breathes under pressure, expanding and contracting with each touch. Born from the experience of living within war's boundaries, it shares conceptual DNA with fragments of destruction — a shattered vase, broken glass, a fractured window — each carrying the weight of interruption, of worlds undone and remade in real time.

The spiral emerges as both form and philosophy. In its mathematics, we discover that every departure is also a return, every ending a beginning. Here, moss and flowers root themselves in the same earth that nourishes this unnamed creature, this inhabitant of uncertain worlds.

Through sustained engagement with guilt, anger, anxiety, sadness, joy, happiness, envy, and pleasure — emotions amplified and complicated by the backdrop of conflict — the work traces the alchemical journey from discomfort toward acceptance. It asks: what might the body become in futures yet unimagined? What forms might consciousness take when survival itself becomes an act of speculation?

These questions find their answers not in declaration but in speculation — through the construction of surreal territories where logic bends and new possibilities take shape. The work proposes that even within the immediate reality of war, or perhaps especially because of it, the modeling of impossible worlds becomes an act of resistance, a way to discover the emotional architectures that might sustain us in whatever tomorrow emerges.

Created in collaboration with Stanislav Sidletskyi