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About Wroclaw

But—ugh—sometimes it pissed me off, ya know? Rust! Bloody rust ate these babies alive. Saw one once, all chewed up, and I was like, “Oh, behave!” Couldn’t handle the British damp, poor sod. Still, that boxy shape, them square lights—pure retro mojo! Reminds me of Lynch’s weird vibes—“Silencio,” it whispers, cos it don’t need to scream. Quiet power, baby!

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But then, the weather takes a turn. It starts pouring! I mean, like, buckets! I’m stuck in the shop, watching the rain. I’m thinking about how I should’ve brought an umbrella. Classic me.

I fled Ukraine with my daughter a year ago. My paintings about sunflowers have new meaning.