There is a different life somewhere out there. Life with early mornings before sunrise when you run outside to get eggs out of the chicken house to make omelets for breakfast. There is a life where you milk a cow before having a glass of milk. A life where you pick the vegetables in the garden for your salad and slaughter the cow if you want meatballs for dinner. There is a life with long evenings by the fire followed by songs and fairytales. There is a life with constant but pleasant troubles and everyday hard work. A happy life though, and happy people.

 

I was born and raised on a farm in a small town in southern Siberia. Growing up so close to nature and depending on it physically and emotionally forever imbedded the need to be around it. I lived in big cities in the past decade, and after school was over, I craved to go to a much quieter and less crowded place. I moved into a tiny home on wheels and drove around the country for six months to "figure out life" and what was next.

 

I watched myself change as I drove through changing skies and landscapes. Eventually, it brought me back to art. I remember I started school dreaming of becoming a designer but still wanted to be an artist. In my head, those were two completely different things (too precise versus too abstract) that now came together in this medium – clay. Today I am continuing to create objects that can be art and can be functional at the same time: lamps, candle holders, vessels, stools, chairs, and coffee tables. Things that are only limited by the size of the kiln.

 

As I walk into my new studio here, in Phoenix, it reminds me of our home farm: it’s a lot of physical labor but it brings you so much joy that it makes it worth keep building.