It was an honor to be invited by CSVPA University in Cambridge as a creative assistant, collaborating with the Japanese artist Maho on her striking project, “Enui. Tayutau,” and working closely with Iman, a Chinese model specializing in performing arts. At the center of the project is a mysterious character who feels both distant and familiar. Our work explored two main ideas inspired by Japanese concepts, which Maho introduced as the foundation for my work.

Tayutau – a poetic notion about drifting, uncertainty, and how our identity changes in an unpredictable world.

Ennui – a feeling of sadness, tiredness, and quiet detachment, symbolizing how our inner feelings gently interact with the outside world, blurring the boundary between inside and outside.

“One day I woke up, and the lines on my palms had changed.

I knew my course had transformed.

Oh Earth, my Earth,

I am a whale.

I need a breathing valve, a huge blowhole to exhale through the war that should have been eradicated, overcome a long time ago.

And now I have to take my time they said

and it felt like I had to take an hourglass covered in golden thorns,

like the domes of Kyiv’s churches, spikes of Ukrainian borders,

and walk beside you.”

Each of these images that you see, are not just AI or generated story for fun. I am inspired by real people and magical realism helps me to reflect existence and show how we can engage with it directly, seeing it through different dimensions.

“HVALUR” was drawn from the figure of a soldier who had returned from war, with whom I spent time. Through my imagination, I brought forth visions that could help him process, articulate, and navigate his experiences. I know it’s bold to say, but I hoped these stories might help to heal a part of him, guiding him into a new identity that isn’t about escape. I don’t believe in escapism in our reality anymore. Instead, it’s about living in the present moment, holding onto these images as shields, as something that would connect us across time, finding healing in one another.

In this vision, I wanted the stone into which the traveler transforms to be reflective—a mirror so that people approaching it would see only themselves. I imagined that this sculpture could help us learn to look deeply into our own consciousness, healing one another, and when I say healing, it means never harming.

The original story, script, and creative direction belong to Anna Tymofieieva.

It was an honor to be invited by CSVPA University in Cambridge as a creative assistant, collaborating with the Japanese artist Maho on her striking project, “Enui. Tayutau,” and working closely with Iman, a Chinese model specializing in performing arts. At the center of the project is a mysterious character who feels both distant and familiar. Our work explored two main ideas inspired by Japanese concepts, which Maho introduced as the foundation for my work.

Tayutau – a poetic notion about drifting, uncertainty, and how our identity changes in an unpredictable world.

Ennui – a feeling of sadness, tiredness, and quiet detachment, symbolizing how our inner feelings gently interact with the outside world, blurring the boundary between inside and outside.

One day, Harlequin set out to find new meanings. He couldn’t connect with people, so he wandered away toward the sea. Eventually, he noticed a silhouette and approached it. But the figure was ancient, covered in moss, holding memories that had long become unreachable. Its body remained, yet clearly, its soul had drifted elsewhere.

Harlequin realized that the soulless, bronze sculpture thrown into the sea understood him profoundly at that very moment. The song playing in his headphones convinced him that they were communicating. Indeed, what was the chance Harlequin would encounter a bronze sculpture appearing entirely devoid of life yet possessing more vitality than everyone he had ever tried speaking to?

Harlequin began to feel toward this sculpture—not exactly compassion or sympathy—but rather a recognition of himself, as though he were conversing with his inner self. Words became unnecessary; just looking out at the sea was enough. Sometimes it seemed the sculpture responded with a wink or a subtle smile. And when it grew weary, it appeared to dip its feet in the water to distance itself from Harlequin for a while.

On certain days, the sculpture became unreachable as the high tide prevented Harlequin from coming closer. Yet he, fully dressed, would swim to reach it. Even during high tides, he swam to be near it. Suspended in the weightlessness between the black sky and the trembling ocean, he simply remained close to the bronze sculpture, feeling his own belonging. This sense of belonging was what drove him to venture so far out.

There was no one else. Occasionally, the stars appeared, and Harlequin spoke about each one he knew. Sometimes, he could even see their bronze reflections shimmering gently in the sculpture. People couldn’t reflect stars like that. Have you ever seen stars reflected in people?