This one is about the personal space in which we are allowed to exist. Someone see this as a tragedy, some are happy that they got their own island, on which they could hardly fit. Someone is struggling to expand, someone cannot keep what they have received. You are forced to fit the given space. The space shapes you for itself, you must correspond to it. Accepting these demands kills you. You stop being yourself and just become a filling of someone else's space.

(2021, Kyyiv, Ukraine, 40X40X40 cm., schamot clay, engobes, electric firing.

Photos: Andrey Lobov)