It reminds me of the fashion show. I see the silhouette of a woman with a wide hat and a very cool outfit.

It’s like a scene from a bizarre fairy tale—colorful and lively, yet there’s an underlying tension, as if something is about to go wrong.

I imagine myself standing on the bridge over the Dnipro, taking in the view and feeling the cold wind rush by. But I feel warm because I’m home.

It feels like a race through time—layers of motion, color, and energy pulling me in. The galloping horses almost flicker, like old film frames, never stopping.

This feels like a mix of Basquiat’s graffiti chaos and Guston’s cartoonish style—vibrant, surreal, and alive, like a painting that won’t sit still and keeps telling new stories.

The artwork captivates with its small details and a multitude of minor scenes. Yet at the same time, I feel tension and anxiety when I look at it. I sense something foreign within it.

A playful dog is resting after a swim, but then—someone walks in with a dessert...