My masterclass at «Family Paint» had great success! Kids and parents made many funny monsters!



cool monsters made in my workshop

short movie with me and my kids, by cool video photographer Polina Lyubanovskaya



What we can’t see in that movie, is how my son in the very beginning fell down from the stairs and, therefore, had a black eye and was grumpy :-(

My grandma died. No, it didn’t happen today or yesterday, but a few months ago, and this is for the first time I can put it in words and write it down. When I write down things, here or elsewhere, I have a feeling that I make them a part of my personal history. Unlike memories in my mind, that can just disappear or change.

My grandma’s name was Izabella Usviatsova. This is her at the right side, first row, followed by photos of my mum, me, and then my three children in the bottom row.

It feels sometimes so strange, like I am one of her big notebooks, that she was filling up with texts, useful information and lists. I am as well full with useful information she gave me, with her stories, emotions, ideas, hugs, sweets, books, values. I still love her so much, but this love is now really useless.

My son is one year old. Here is he, standing next to his sisters in the zoo, looking at the hippo:



If you can’t see where hippo is, so this is the close up:



When I had only one child I went to a shrink. Once we started to talk about artists and their lives. I mentioned how it is usually a bohemian lifestyle, alcohol, drugs and madness. She didn’t agree, saying it is a dangerous idea, and lifestyle can be anything you want it to become. As an example, she mentioned Rembrandt, who had a loving family, big house and a lot of clients. I went home and read Rembrandt’s biography. Which is finishes with: «…As often happens in the history of art, in spite of his brilliant talent, Rembrandt died in poverty and loneliness, forgotten, useless master.»

I am, of course, not Rembrandt, but wondering, if one can become a really great artist without paying the price of madness, drugs, alcohol, disappointment in the end.

Breastfeeding while drawing. Drawing while breastfeeding.

I asked the girls this morning to take care of Itay, so I could sleep a little bit longer. So they did, and even documented it with my phone: