WATERCOLOR DECADENCE
“Watercolor Decadence” is a title born from the melancholic, decadent moods that unexpectedly permeate many of these works—or perhaps from the feelings they evoke after viewing. It may also refer to my tendency to mix watercolor with various dyes, draining it of its original purity.
This series began in 2007, when I was 13 years old. A spark could come from anything: a stray phrase, a rhyme, a song lyric, a curious event, or a historical detail. The unifying thread is a tension—something metaphysical or controversial lying beneath the surface.
Each painting begins with a basic idea that becomes layered with every association I can conjure, allowing the subject to unfold in as many dimensions as possible. Often, after completion, hidden meanings and new connections reveal themselves—like rewards granted by the process itself.
For inquiries about the price or availability of original paintings, please visit the Store or reach out via the Contact page. Fine art prints are available for selected works.

This painting is a parody of inert Christian fundamentalism theories claiming that God created the Earth in 6 days only few thousands years ago and denying the biological evolution.
The picture shows a group of dinosaurs meticulously observing the traditions of Christmas celebration (catholic):
the prehistoric trees are beautifully decorated, the Santa’s costumes and silly sweaters are put on... but Gingerbread man got brutally sacrificed and in the nest among the golden eggs - there is crucified Charles Darwin with "On the Origin of Species" in his hand. The dinosaurs tried their best.
Behind the tinsels and garlands, gifts chasing and surface rituals the essence of Christmas as the birthday of the savior of the human race is definitely getting lost ... or the birthday of Charles Darwin as the protector of dinosaurs on the picture? But why they crucified him?

"Gigantomania” is a surreal and haunting depiction of transformation, fear, and subconscious turmoil. A gaunt, naked woman with fiery red hair sits in a wooden chair, her body overtaken by grotesque mutations. Her once-human features are being swallowed by something vast and alien—elephantine traits emerge from her face and limbs. A heavy trunk replaces her nose, and enormous ears distort her head, amplifying her wide-eyed horror. Her left leg is also deformed, as if the transformation is creeping through her entire being.
The surrounding space is filled with phantasmal, fragmented elephant-like apparitions—trunks, ears, and spectral forms float in a nightmarish haze, threatening and consuming. The colors bleed and drip, reinforcing the dreamlike, chaotic state she is trapped in. The dark atmosphere suggests a realm of unconscious fears, where the immense and uncontrollable forces of the psyche manifest in grotesque and overwhelming ways.
This spontaneous creation could represent an eruption of the collective unconscious, an expression of archetypal forces beyond the artist’s direct awareness. The elephant, often associated with wisdom, memory, and power, appears here as something terrifying and oppressive rather than noble or majestic. This could symbolize an internal struggle with the enormity of ambition, knowledge, or responsibility—perhaps a warning against "biting off more than one can chew."
The grotesque mutation of the woman suggests an overwhelming confrontation with something larger than herself, a force that is both deeply personal and yet universal. It could represent the fear of losing one's individuality, being overtaken by societal expectations, or the existential dread of becoming something monstrous or unrecognizable.
In essence, "Gigantomania" is a powerful psychological portrait of inner conflict, a visual diary of an unconscious battle against forces that are at once immense, terrifying, and deeply symbolic.

This picture is based on the Book of Revelation, a series of prophetic visions presumably written by John the Apostle. On my painting the horses themselves are the harbingers of the Last Judgment, setting a divine
end-time upon the world. God conjures them and gives them the power to wreak havoc and destruction in the world. The first horse is white and it is the embodiment of the righteousness or the false righteousness. There is the historical heritage under its hooves – the most influential dictators and tyrants. False prophets-conquerors, they were sure that implementation and strict adherence to their doctrines will change the world for the better, known only to them. Jesus hearing the voice of God leads the White Horse. In some texts, Jesus is personified as the rider of the White Horse and represents spreading of the gospel (with all the troubles of organized religion). With the inclusion of Jesus as
a sheepherder of the Horses in the painting I wanted to show the variability in interpretation of the Apocalypse.
The Red Horse is often taken to represent War and it judges in the name of God himself. There are mountains of corpses and massive destructions under its hooves, rivers of flowing blood spilled on the battlefield. The Red Horse also could mean the zeal of the heart of the martyrs for the name of Christ. Even in such devastation there is the wise will of God, which sends adversity as trials for the faithful. And said Jesus: “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I have come to set a man against his father, and
a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and one’s foes will be members of one’s own household” (Matthew 10:34-36).
The Black Horse is popularly understood to be Famine. Under its hooves I painted a family whose members are devouring each other. In drained and dead land starving dogs are eating the horse-omen itself. With the approach of the Apocalypse, the most necessary food will rise in price greatly and the wages earned per day will be enough only for the minimum subsistence for the same day and nothing more.
The Pale horse appears to me as really frightful, in terms of style and feeling it refers to my “Turin Horses”. One hoof is turned in an unnatural position and forms an arch – the entrance to Hell.
In that way the painting unfolds diagonally: the action is opened by the rays of God’s light and ended by the rays of hell fire.
"Then I saw when the Lamb broke one of the seven seals, and I heard one of the four living creatures saying as with
a voice of thunder, "Come". I looked and behold, a White Horse, and he who sat on it had a bow; and a crown was given to him, and he went out conquering and to conquer."
- Revelation 6:1-2
"When He broke the second seal, I heard the second living creature saying, "Come!" And another, a Red Horse, went out; and to him who sat on it, it was granted to take peace from the earth, and that men would kill one another; and
a great sword was given to him."
- Revelation 6:3-4
"When He broke the third seal I heard the third living creature saying, "Come." I looked, and behold, a Black Horse, and he who sat on it had a pair of scales in his hand. And I heard something like a voice in the center of the four living creatures saying, "A quart of wheat for a denarius, and three quarts of barley for a denarius; but do not damage the oil and the wine."
- Revelation 6:5-6
"When the Lamb broke the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature saying, "Come." I looked and behold, an ashen horse; and he who sat on it had the name Death; and Hades was following with him. Authority was given to them over a fourth of the earth, to kill with sword and with famine and with pestilence and by the wild beasts of the earth."
- Revelation 6:7-8

The painting depicts my favorite macaw species – Hyacinth macaw. They have a very interesting expression on their "face" – their beak is designed in such a way that they seem to be always smiling. Once a male and female bond they form a pair for life. My painting shows a situation when one of the partners dies. The situation is quite tragic but
the parrots’ expressions are still the same … smiling. There is nothing to be done. This gives the dying bird
a particularly blissful state, and to her partner – very curious. The painting shows a biogeocoenosis of tropical resort areas involving people. In the background there is a crowd of vacationers, maybe their behavior caused the death of one of the parrots, or maybe not.

This haunting painting depicts a red-haired woman seen from behind, her pale, delicate skin violently disrupted by a series of sharp, grotesque spikes emerging along her spine. The spikes seem to be growing from within, each one pushing through swollen, inflamed flesh, leaving behind scars and fresh wounds. The image is both painful and mesmerizing, capturing a moment of metamorphosis—one that feels more like a curse than a gift. The contrast between the softness of her skin and the rough, almost armor-like spikes suggests a transformation driven by both suffering and resilience. The fact that the spikes originate from within the woman’s own body suggests that this transformation is deeply personal and inescapable. It is something that she must endure, rather than something imposed upon her by external forces. In this painting, the woman’s wounds might signify past traumas, experiences that have forced her to develop an emotional or psychological armor. The spikes could be both a defense mechanism and a burden—protecting her from further pain while also isolating her from the world. They represent strength gained through suffering, but also the potential for alienation if one becomes consumed by their own pain.
Additionally, the spinal column is symbolically significant in many psychological and mystical traditions. It is often associated with the flow of energy, transformation, and inner power. In this context, the spikes could represent an uncontrolled, raw surge of personal power—an awakening that is happening too rapidly or too violently for the body and mind to handle with ease. This might parallel moments in life when personal growth comes at the cost of great pain, when one must destroy parts of their former self to evolve into something new.
The title of this painting "I Can Already Feel Worms Eating My Spine”, came from the song of Marilyn Manson “Just a car crash away”. The whole album “Eat me, drink me” was a huge influence at that time. The line I used for the title comes from one of the most haunting moments in the song, evoking decay, mortality, and an inevitable loss of control. The spikes bursting through woman’s skin on the painting could symbolize the worms metaphorically consuming her from within, turning her body into a site of both destruction and transformation, how suffering embeds itself into the body, becoming an inseparable part of one’s existence. The imagery of slow, inevitable decay (worms consuming the spine) aligns with the way the spikes seem to force their way through flesh, leaving wounds in their wake. The presence of scars suggests that this process has been ongoing, much like the lasting effects of heartbreak, obsession, or self-destruction that Manson often explores in his music.

Painting inspired by the song of Marilyn Manson "Spade":
All my lilies' mouths are open
Like they're begging for dope
And hoping
Their bitter petal chant,
"We can kick , you won't be back."
I'm a diamond that is tired
Of all the faces I've acquired
We must secure the shadow
Ere the substance fades

I wanted to repaint the card from the Major Arcana of the Thoth Tarot ATU XI Lust (Strength). The most beautiful and thought-provoking of the all Tarot desks, the Aleister Crowley’s Tarot takes my attention for many years, since I was 12 years old. The abundance of symbols awakes lots of unconscious associations and responses. Almost every year I want to redraw one or the other card of this desk not because I think that I can make the perfection better, but because I feel the need to connect deeper with one or the other archetype while feeling its influence in my life.
ATU XI is devoted to an inherent ability of a woman to excite, to tame and to direct the animal nature. The image of naked Babalon, the Scarlet Woman, lifting the Holy Grail and riding the bizarre and frightful seven-headed Beast. The mystery of ecstatic dissolving of all our being in the universal self of divine. Not just love, but love under will, conscious use of sexual energy on your spiritual path.
"Seven are the veils of the dancing-girl in the harem of IT.
Seven are the names, and seven are the lamps beside Her bed.
Seven eunuchs guard Her with drawn swords; No man may come nigh unto Her.
In Her wine-cup are seven streams of the blood of the Seven Spirits of God.
Seven are the heads of THE BEAST whereon She rideth.
The head of an Angel: the head of a Saint: the head of a Poet:
the head of an Adulterous Woman: the head of a Man of Valour: the head of a Satyr: and the head of a Lion-Serpent.
Seven letters hath her holiest name, and it is: ......."
- A. Crowley

This painting was published in Spotlight Contemporary Art Magazine (Issue 7th, June 2018)

This painting, titled "Overhugged," marks a departure from my usual style, embracing a raw, rough, and deeply emotional approach. It portrays a profoundly lonely woman, desperate for human connection—longing for a hug, for protection, for emotional attachment. Yet, she has no one, so she embraces herself over and over with grotesque, multiplying arms, suffocating in her own desperate need for affection.
The foreground is marked with bleeding handprints, resembling a crime scene, as if this obsessive self-embrace has led to a tragic outcome. The artwork mimics the layout of a Los Angeles Times article, with the haunting words: "Stop waiting for those who won’t ever come." It tells a story of despair, loneliness, lost hopes, and dreams that should have never lingered, culminating in a painful and violent emotional aftermath.

This painting presents a phoenix, the eternal symbol of rebirth and transformation, but unlike the typical triumphant resurrection, this rebirth is agonizing, self-inflicted, and violently raw. The phoenix tears itself apart with its own claws, willingly embracing excruciating pain in order to rise anew. This powerful imagery reflects how true transformation often demands destruction, suffering, and the shattering of one’s old self.
Thematically, the piece resonates with Carl Jung’s concept of shadow work—the painful psychological process of confronting one’s deepest fears, traumas, and suppressed aspects of the self. While shadow work can lead to growth and self-awareness, it can also consume, disorient, and cause immense suffering. Just like the phoenix in this painting, people undertaking shadow work must face their inner demons, endure the psychological wounds they uncover, and risk losing themselves before they can emerge stronger. The negative consequences of shadow work can include emotional turmoil, identity crises, and even self-destruction if one is not prepared for the depths they must navigate.
The colors in this piece intensify the macabre, grotesque atmosphere—deep crimson reds spill like wounds bleeding across the feathers, merging with the charred blacks and ashen grays of burnt flesh and smoldering ruins. The intense yellow and orange flames at the bottom consume and torment rather than purify, turning the idea of rebirth into something violent rather than victorious. The phoenix’s expression is not one of power, but of sorrow, exhaustion, and unbearable agony, making it clear that this cycle of death and rebirth comes at an immense personal cost.
This piece captures the willing sacrifice of self for transformation, questioning whether the pain is truly worth the rebirth, and if the cycle of destruction is an inescapable fate.




This painting I started on July 31st 2014. As always I was listening to music, literally overlistening to the point of insanity that went well with a purposeful lack of sleep and food. There was nothing particular I wanted to paint, but
the song "Black birds" by Nautilus was overtaking my mind,
I wanted to be submerged in it completely:
Black birds fly down from the moon,
those black birds are like nightmares,
they fly around me all night long
and search for my daughter everywhere.
Take all my gold,
take all my gold,
take all my gold
and fly away from here.
We do not need your gold,
we do not need your gold.
All your gold became rusty
and is covered with spots all around.
Black birds with their black beaks
will peck out a diamond from the child’s eyes.
They will take away that diamond in their black claws
leaving only coal-black fear in those eyes.
Take all my kingdom,
take all my kingdom
take all my kingdom
and take my crown with it.
We do not need your kingdom,
we do not need your kingdom,
as your kingdom is just a hole in the sod
and your crown is made of a maple.
Then just take my eyes,
then just take my eyes,
then just take my eyes
so that they won’t see you anymore!
We do not need your eyes already,
we do not need your eyes already,
we've already been inside them
and have taken everything we needed.
An incredible song that talks about the impossibility of changes, fate is sealed. You want to give everything for the last ray of hope but it is too late, nothing is going to work. Whatever you do, it will be in vain. No faith in God mercy is present. These black birds are the most negative characters ever emerged in my painting, there is absolutely no good side to them.
On August 1st 2014, the next day after I started this painting, my grandfather suddenly passed away. It was a great loss for my family and especially difficult time for my mother. It has a long story related to my aunt who is as greedy and inhuman as these black birds.

You are passing by without a smile,
your eyes are cast down,
and in the darkness above the Cathedral
the golden domes are shining.
Your face resembles so vividly
the evening Virgins,
who cast down their eyes,
who disappear in the darkness...
But there is a little boy with you,
a curly-haired, gentle boy, wearing a white cap.
You are leading him by the hand,
you do not allow him to fall.
I am in the shade of the portal,
where the sharp wind blows,
and my strained eyes
are clouded with tears.
I would like to spring up before your eyes
and to exclaim "Oh, Virgin!
Why have you brought the Infant
to my black city?"
But my tongue is powerless to shout;
you are passing by, and, behind you,
above the blessed footprints,
the blue darkness slumbers.
And I remain, watching, remembering
your downcast eyes,
and how your little boy with a white cap
smiled at you.
- A. Blok
The poem "The Virgin in the city" by Alexander Blok makes me feel like something universal is getting emerged,
a wonderful interpenetration of different realities. The archetypal Mother manifesting herself at the same time in
the image of the Virgin Mary and in the image of a real worldly mother. Likewise the biblical story reflects
the archetype of a Mother in general, so is this archetype an every living mother. This poem has much more meaning in it than I could depict in 2014, it seems to me that I will paint several more paintings inspired by this work.
The Virgin Mary is carrying the cross together with Jesus while according to medieval allegories, the Virgin Mary is not only the Mother of God but his cross.
Likewise on the icon "Virgin Mary in the face of death" Jesus on this painting is pictured as an adult, at the age of
the crucifixion. The Crown of Thorns here is hyperbolized and stretches its twigs to the mother as well, leaving on her bleeding wounds that symbolize her personal pain. But the heavenly light keeps leading her on this inscrutable path and the Mother keeps believing in the necessity and justification of such sacrifice. There is a totality of sinners depicted underneath the cross, the sinners for whom this sacrifice was made. The disbelievers, they keep burning in the flames of hell.

This painting represents the time when the Orthodox Church in the Soviet Union suffered persecution and decline due to the state's anti-religious campaign.


Hugh Warner (Marilyn Manson's father) often would make bitterly satirical posts on Facebook about his participation in the Vietnam war: "The only good weed is a dead weed. Boom", "Agent orange, so proud to have sprayed it on innocent" …
While painting this picture I was overlistening to the band The Doors. It was a painting without any preliminary image, I just wanted to paint with orange color, from which some shadows of the herbicide victims mutilated by mutations began to form.
I remember how towards the end of working on the painting a blade began to appear in the corner and a snail was on it. I was thinking then whether I should keep it on the painting, what does the snail have to do with it? To create the atmosphere of Vietnam jungle I wanted to paint much more vile creatures. And few years later while rewatching the movie "Apocalypse now" I could not leave unnoticed again this scene: "I watched a snail crawl along the edge of
a straight razor. This is my dream, this is my nightmare. Crawling, slithering, along the edge of a straight razor, and surviving …" "But we must kill them. We must incinerate them. Pig after pig. Cow after cow. Village after village. Army after army. And they call me an assassin. What do you call it, when the assassins accuse the assassin? They lie. They lie and we have to be merciful, for those who lie. Those nabobs. I hate them. I really hate them".
The Saigon Whore herself on the painting is the embodiment of the Mother Nature’s spirit during the terrible crisis, artificially created in her womb. This is a responding force of the disturbed nature. In her eyes – the fire of animal madness. Instead of running away from the fire she rushes into it. The Nature gives birth to deformed offspring, there is nothing but Chaos around. So is the chaos in society.

I shall clamber out
filthy (from sleeping in ditches);
I'll stand at his side
and, bending,
shall speak in his ear:
"Listen, mister god!
Isn't it tedious
to dip your puffy eyes
every day into a jelly of cloud?
Let us! why not start a merry-go-round
on the tree of what is good and evil!
Omnipresent, you will be in each cupboard,
and with such wines we'll grace the table
than even frowning Apostle Peter
will want to step out in the ki-ka-pou.
In Eden again we'll lodge little Eves:
command-
and this very night, for you,
from the boulevards, I'll round up
all the most beautiful girls.
Would you like that?
You would not?
You shake your head, curlylocks?
You're frowning, grey brows?
You believe
this
creature with wings behind you
knows what love is?
I too am an angel; I was one
with a sugar lamb's eye I gazed;
but I'll give no more presents to mares
of ornamental vases made of tortured Sevres.
Almighty, you concocted a pair of hands,
arranged
for everyone to have a head:
but why didn't you see to it
that one could without torture
kiss, and kiss and kiss?!
I though you a great big god almighty,
but you're a dunce, a minute little godlet.
Watch me stoop
and reach for the shoemaker's knife
in my boot.
Swindlers with wings,
huddle in heaven!
Ruffle your feathers in shuddering flight!
I'll rip you open, reeking of incense,
wide open from here to Alaska!
Let me in!
You can't stop me.
I may be wrong
or right,
but I'm as calm as I can be.
Look!
again they've beheaded the stars,
and the sky is bloody with carnage!
Hey, you!
Heaven!
Off with your hat!
I am coming!
Not a sound.
The universe sleeps,
its huge paw curled
upon a star-infested ear.
- from the poem by V. Mayakovsky "A Cloud in Trousers"
Portraits
Tarkovsky once said: “Juxtaposing a person with an environment that is boundless, collating him with a countless number of people passing by close to him and far away, relating a person to the whole world — that is the meaning of cinema.” I follow a similar principle when painting people. A simple imitation of a photo doesn't interest me. Instead, I surround each character with elements I feel are symbolically tied to them — whether evident or deeply buried. The colors, whether chosen by intuition or chance, help shape a story that goes beyond the image.

This painting was created after watching a film by Bella Tarr "The Turin Horse", the preface to which is a story of Friedrich Nietzsche. On January 3rd 1889 in Turin Nietzsche witnessed the beating of a horse by a coachman.
He rushed to the horse, threw his arms around the horse's neck, and after that became silent forever, spending
the last 11 years of his life in a mental institution. This moment from the Nietzsche's life, still not fully understood
by me, awakens strong emotions. Such a genius human being, who taught people a new way of thinking, has seen
the tortured horse, burst into tears while hugging it and shortly after that told his mother: "Mother, I am a fool",
and lost his brilliant mind.
The last works of Nietzsche before this event are: "The Antichrist: Curse on Christianity" and "Ecce Homo: How One Becomes What One Is". In "Antichrist" Nietzsche calls compassion, elevated by Christians to the level of the highest virtue, the most harmful feature of the religion, more harmful than a sin. And in "Ecce Homo" Nietzsche provides his own interpretation of his development, his works, and his significance. The book contains several chapters with
self-laudatory titles, such as "Why I Am So Wise", "Why I Am So Clever", "Why I Write Such Good Books" and "Why I Am a Destiny'. In effect, Nietzsche was putting himself on trial with this work, and his sardonic judgments and chapter headings can be seen as mordant, mocking and self-deprecating. The day before the incident the thoughts occupying Nietzsche while working on these last books still have been weighed on him. The compassion as a one of the most important elements of psychological empathy expression and of emotional involvement of an individual into the suffering of another individual, swallowed up Nietzsche. Nietzsche who has exposed compassion as a main destructive affect, lost his battle with this feeling in the form of an innocent animal, unfairly tortured by a human.

Baudelaire expanded the field of art and poetry to previously forbidden topics, finding a new strange beauty in them. For Baudelaire, love and creativity have always rhymed with prostitution and moral decay. Women in Baudelaire’s world are animals, they are a source of voluptuousness, and voluptuousness is a sin to which he deliberately and with enviable regularity succumbed. The aestheticization of evil, the opening of abscesses of human character, a challenge to the majority. He sought himself out in physical experiments and moral decline, spending all his money on brothels and drugs. In absinthe, Baudelaire was looking for a source of rapprochement either with the divine, or with the otherworldly, or even with the demonic.
“… Thus, when I'll be lost to the memory
Of men, when I shall be tossed into the corner
Of a dismal wardrobe, a desolate old phial,
Decrepit, cracked, slimy, dirty, dusty, abject,
Delightful pestilence! I shall be your coffin,
The witness of your strength and of your virulence,
Beloved poison prepared by the angels! Liqueur
That consumes me, O the life and death of my heart!..” (from "The Flask" by Ch. Baudelaire)
Baudelaire’s poetic appeal is an appeal to both God and the Devil. His desire to ascend is a prayer to God, and his natural desire to descend is a prayer to the Devil. In each tragedy, Baudelaire searched for a source of inspiration, almost deliberately testing himself for strength.
This painting was featured in one of the biggest Russian communities devoted to the poet: https://vk.com/charlespierrebaudelaire

Everything was promised to pure-blooded German Marlene Dietrich: money, fame, a luxurious life. If only she agrees to play in propaganda films glorifying the Third Reich. The pressure on the actress was enormous but she did not give in, she became an ardent agitator for the destruction of nazi Germany. Marlene Dietrich was an advocate of freedom in everything: in life, in love, in hatred. A bitter hatred towards the Third Reich was stronger than kinship. Marlene left the country but her sister refused to do so and started to support fascism. For the rest of her life Marlene denied even her sister’s existence.

Marilyn Monroe as the Satanic Madonna of the 20th century. In the biography of Anton LaVey a special place is given to his affair with Monroe. The satanic goddess - passionate, vicious, charming, beautiful.
The correlation between the shadow, not public side of Marilyn and the dark side of the Hollywood film industry.

This portrait, titled "The Red-Proletarian," captures the Soviet poet Vladimir Mayakovsky enveloped entirely in shades of red, symbolizing his intense passion for the Communist Party. The dominant red hues reflect his early fervor for the Bolshevik cause and the revolutionary spirit he championed through his art.
However, as Mayakovsky's life progressed, his initial enthusiasm for communism began to wane. He envisioned the Russian Revolution as the catalyst for a global communist movement, but the reality of the Soviet regime led to growing disillusionment. This sense of betrayal is depicted in the painting by the presence of blood in the background, symbolizing the emotional and ideological wounds inflicted by a system he once idealized.
The circumstances surrounding Mayakovsky's death on April 14, 1930, remain shrouded in mystery. Officially, he died by suicide, leaving a poignant note that read: "To all of you. I die, but don't blame anyone for it, and please do not gossip." Despite this, various theories have emerged, suggesting possible foul play by the state due to his outspoken nature and evolving criticisms. The exact truth remains uncertain, adding a layer of tragic ambiguity to his legacy.
The exclusive use of red tones in the portrait serves multiple symbolic purposes. Beyond representing his early communist zeal, the reds convey the bloodshed and personal anguish resulting from his disenchantment. The monochromatic palette underscores the intensity of his emotions and the internal conflict between his revolutionary ideals and the harsh realities he faced.
In essence, "The Red-Proletarian" delves deep into Mayakovsky's complex relationship with communism, illustrating a journey from passionate advocacy to profound disappointment, and ultimately, a tragic end.

Monroe is looking back on her life: on the one hand, the glamorous world of cinema, its outer shell,on the other -
Marilyn’s inner self. An unexpected turn on her surroundings and internal demons.
A controversial figure, she was perceived by many only as a dim-witted blonde matching her amplua.
However, biographers are still studying her personality, life and a cause of death.

There is Lewis Carroll on the painting, the author of Alice in Wonderland. The greatest joy of his life was his friendships with little girls, a type of friendship that he himself considered completely innocent. In nineteenth-century Victorian England girls under the age of 14 were considered asexual. Carroll’s friendship with them, according to the morals of that time, was a completely innocent quirk.
Lewis Carroll on the painting is depicted half-asleep, surrounded by the images of Alices, emerging from
the unconscious and inspired by the real acquaintanceships of Carroll. In each of his real child-friend Carroll found character traits for his future Alice.

This highly detailed and realistic watercolor portrait captures Marilyn Manson and his father, Hugh Warner, in a deeply personal and unfiltered moment. Inspired by a famous photoshoot by Terry Richardson, where both wore makeup, I chose to strip away the façade and portray them as they truly were — raw, vulnerable, and deeply connected.
Hugh Warner, who was a personal inspiration to me and a Facebook friend from 2012 until his passing in 2017, is depicted smoking his signature cigarette, though the bleeding ember symbolizes the harsh reality of his battle with chronic lung disease. The shared leather jackets reinforce their bond, a quiet rebellion against time and fate.
This painting was deeply meaningful not just to me, but also to Hugh himself - he loved this portrait, shared it on Facebook multiple times, and even used it as his cover photo. Knowing that he appreciated and embraced my work in such a personal way made this piece even more special, solidifying it as one of the most important portraits I’ve created.





This mixed-media self-portrait, created with watercolor and colored pencils, is a deeply personal representation of my struggles as an artist and creative individual. It captures the overwhelming flood of ideas that constantly push to be expressed, yet for a long time, I felt unrecognized, as if my art was unappreciated. This frustration is visualized through a surreal and grotesque metaphor: a drill boring into my skull, releasing an endless stream of excrement—symbolizing my self-doubt and the feeling that my creative efforts were worthless in the eyes of others.
Half of my body is depicted as a 3D mesh, reflecting my time studying 3D animation at NYFA in Los Angeles. Golden stars are scattered throughout the piece, symbolizing my impressions of Hollywood Boulevard, while various emojis and a flipping-off middle finger as an engagement ring represent my online friendship with Hugh Warner. His unfulfilled promises to visit me in L.A. turned into yet another frustrating thought, feeding into the chaos inside my mind. This painting is an unfiltered visual diary of artistic struggle, disillusionment, and the relentless pursuit of creative expression.

This portrait was chosen by Garik Sukachev himself (famous Russian musician and song-writer) to be an official poster for his concert in Yekaterinburg (May 27th, 2014)


This is a 2013 watercolor portrait of Hugh Warner, father of Marilyn Manson. Our friendship began in 2012 on Facebook, where he always encouraged me as an artist, supporting my work and pushing me to grow. This painting was my way of capturing his essence—his charm, humor, and the unapologetic way he interacted with the world.
Surrounding Hugh are abstract, surreal representations of naked women, a symbolic nod to his well-known online persona as a charismatic womanizer. His flirtatious, sometimes inappropriate humor was something that drew people to him, even if it occasionally frustrated me. At 19 years old, I saw myself as someone special to him, which made watching him shower other women with attention all the more maddening. In a way, this portrait was both an artistic tribute and a personal expression of that frustration.
I gifted this painting to Hugh for his birthday, sending him a photo of it through Facebook Messenger. He absolutely loved it, calling it the best birthday gift he had ever received and proudly sharing it on his page. The post was flooded with hundreds of comments from the very women I envied, but that day still remains one of the greatest moments of my journey as an artist.
Later, Hugh asked if I would send him the original to America, and of course, I did. I think, at the time, Manson was visiting him, and Hugh asked if I would mind if he gave the painting to his son since Manson loved it as well. I agreed, and according to Hugh, the portrait later found a place hanging in Manson’s home—an honor beyond words for me.
Then, in 2017, everything changed. Three days before Hugh passed away, lying in his hospital bed, he changed his profile picture back to this portrait. I guess he was thinking about me… And then he died. It crushed me so hard. It felt unreal. Suddenly, my notifications filled with condolences, “RIP” comments flooding under my painting, and online obituaries mentioning his passing, all featuring this portrait. It was like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.
That moment somehow made our friendship immortal. To this day, his former Facebook page, kept as a remembrance, still has this portrait as his profile picture. His presence lingers in that space, and so does our connection.
At the time, I was living alone in Burbank, Los Angeles, and it was one of the darkest and roughest periods of my life. I felt lost, drowning in grief, unable to process the weight of it all. But even through the pain, I know that this painting, this bond, and those memories will always remain.
The Turin Horses
After the episode with Friedrich Nietzsche, the phrase “Turin horse” should have become a phraseological unit. To me, it evokes something excruciating — like catharsis without purification or redemption. These paintings weren’t planned. They emerged during the most unbearable moments of my life.
I began this series in 2007 — one of my first experiences with watercolor. I would start painting aimlessly, simply admiring the meditative beauty of pigment flowing on wet paper. Yet abstract shapes always seemed to resolve into the form of a horse. This imagery returned again and again, especially in times of deep emotional stress, when creating anything intentional felt impossible.
Observing these paintings take shape became a form of escape — and each new one became, in its own way, my next Turin horse.




Absinthe Queen
Absinthe Queen is a five-painting series that began in 2012, inspired by the decadent mystique of absinthe as portrayed by Marilyn Manson and the burlesque allure of Dita Von Teese. Painted spontaneously and intuitively, the first image emerged with a female figure whose head was replaced by a bottle—an unplanned but powerful symbol of intoxication and obsession.
Each painting explores a stage in the rise and fall of this intoxicating figure. From her confident debut onstage to her reign, decadence, downfall, and final decay, the Absinthe Queen embodies vice, seduction, and decline. She is not the dreamy “Green Fairy” but the “Green Witch”—a personification of moral panic, eroticism, addiction, and the fatal charm of fin-de-siècle excess.
The final image, Joyless Senility, captures her modern fate: a faded icon of once-glorious rebellion, now artificial, forgotten, and stripped of her power.



