I was born in Ukraine, under skies heavy with history and light with imagination. My hands found fabric and charcoal before they found stability. Art was never a choice—it was the only language I trusted. Over the years, I’ve stitched together a life that dances between the traditional and the surreal: from textile sculptures that whisper grief, to fog-drenched photo shoots where birdcages crown human heads.

Montenegro gave me years of motherhood and Mediterranean light. Canada offered fog, challenge, and rebirth. I’ve lived in suitcases and set up studios in my mind—chasing beauty from Vancouver’s cherry blossoms to the myths of Mount Olympus. Greece calls to me like a past life, and I answer in sketches, symbols, and spontaneous plans. I travel not to escape, but to connect—to places, people, and pieces of myself I haven’t met yet.

My calendar is a constellation of art shows, charity galas, protests, dinner parties, and surreal birthday spectacles. I surround myself with soul-rich people—women in transition, men in velvet robes, old souls in young bodies. I throw garage sales that look like exhibitions and exhibitions that feel like home.

My work isn’t polished—it pulses. It’s tangled in memory, war, and resilience. I turn loss into installation, home into gallery, and silence into symbols. My name is my brand, not out of ego, but necessity: everything I make is unapologetically mine. I am both the softness of sari fabric and the edge of a concrete cube.

I’ve built a life from scraps and stardust, where the surreal is grounded and the grounded—always a little surreal.

Why I’m on Couchsurfing

How I Participate in Couchsurfing
I enjoy hosting kind, easygoing people—especially those who travel with curiosity and lightness. I often pick up hitchhikers or help travelers along the road. It’s my way of giving back, sharing a meal, a story, or simply a safe place to rest. I believe in generosity without expectation, and in the beautiful randomness of human connection.

Couchsurfing Experience
I haven’t surfed myself yet—but I’m excited to start! So far, I’ve been on the hosting side, and it’s brought some wonderful people into my life. I’m looking forward to seeing the other side of the experience soon.

Interests

I’m endlessly fascinated by the spaces where beauty meets meaning. Symbolism guides me—whether it’s Ukrainian embroidery, ancient myths, or forgotten rituals. I’m drawn to textiles, theatre, surrealism, and the strange language of objects. I don’t create to decorate—I create to communicate. Every sculpture, robe, table setting, or photograph is layered with intention.

I love materials that speak—brocade and sari silks with stories in their weave, concrete with its raw honesty, 3D-printed plastic shaped like ancient dreams. Nature is my constant collaborator. I see design in the branches, color palettes in the moss, and movement in the wind. Forests don’t just calm me—they inspire me. I walk through them with a sketchbook in my head.

Travel, for me, is a ritual of reconnection. I’m happiest behind the wheel on a winding mountain road, windows down, music up, chasing light across peaks and valleys. I love road trips—the long kind, where the road curves like a ribbon and the scenery feels like a moving painting. I hike, I climb, I backpack. I find clarity in the rhythm of footsteps and joy in the ache of a summit reached. I’m part of the Ukrainian hiking community in Vancouver, where shared trails become shared stories.

These journeys—across countries, trails, and personal seasons—are the lifeblood of my creativity. They feed the surreal scenes I build and the quiet power in my work. I travel not to escape but to remember who I am. I create not to impress but to express.

I live in layers—of fabric, of meaning, of experience—and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

• theater
• dining
• cooking
• traveling
• drawing
• music
• hiking
• art
• art museums
• thrift stores

Music, Movies, and Books

The Simpsons, Miami Ink, LA Ink,Discovery Channel
I like movies about zombies: Fido, 28 Days Later, 28 Weeks Later and others.
Music: Prodigi, Elle Bandita, 2h company, Chemical Brothers, N.O.H.A., Massive Attack & more more more...

One Amazing Thing I’ve Done

Some of the most powerful things I’ve ever created didn’t happen in a studio.

Giving birth to my son reshaped me in ways no sculpture ever could. It taught me about strength, surrender, and the kind of love that breaks and builds you at the same time. It wasn’t just the beginning of his life—it was the rebirth of mine.

Immigrating to Canada was another act of creation. I arrived with a suitcase full of fabric, ideas, and hope, stepping into the unknown with my family and starting over from scratch. The transition wasn’t gentle—it asked everything of me. But it gave me new roots, new skies, and a wider sense of home. Vancouver became not just a place I live, but a place I grow.

Then there was the West Coast Trail. Eight days of backpacking along cliffs, ladders, storms, and ancient forests. I carried everything on my back and felt both incredibly small and wildly free. That trail stripped me down to my essentials—body, breath, will—and left me clearer, braver, and deeply in love with the rawness of life.

These aren’t just memories. They are the architecture of who I’ve become—an artist, a mother, an immigrant, and a woman who walks her path with eyes wide open, no matter how steep the climb.

Teach, Learn, Share

I can teach you how to cook the dishes that fed generations—Ukrainian classics and beloved staples of the Soviet-era home. I know the secrets of real borshch: how to get the broth just right, the color deep and proud, with garlic, dill, and a spoonful of sour cream like a crown. I can show you okroshka, a chilled soup for summer days, alive with kvass or kefir and crunchy vegetables. I can guide your hands through making pelmeni from scratch—pinching dough into perfect little moons—and explain why Salad Olivier belongs at every holiday table, next to black bread and memories.

These aren’t just recipes. They’re heirlooms. They carry laughter, wartime resilience, crowded kitchens, and quiet tenderness. Teaching them is a way to keep my culture alive—one bowl, one bite, one story at a time.

What I Can Share with Hosts

When I travel, I bring more than just a suitcase—I bring warmth, skill, and a creative spirit. I’m the kind of guest who notices the little things, respects your rhythm, and knows how to make a place feel alive with connection.

I love to cook, and I’m always happy to share the comfort foods I grew up with. Think deep, flavorful borshch with beets and garlic, delicate handmade dumplings, cold okroshka for sunny days, or a classic Soviet-style salad that’s been a centerpiece at family tables for decades. I cook with care and nostalgia—and I never leave the kitchen messy.

Beyond food, I can offer hands-on help with creative projects—styling, decorating, crafting, or brainstorming something new. I’m quick to adapt, resourceful, and good at working with what's available, whether it’s for a home task or an artistic collaboration.

I’m also a thoughtful listener and a calm, present companion. Whether we spend evenings sharing stories, walking through the city, or just enjoying parallel silence, I value human connection in all its forms.

Above all, I’m grateful—for the roof, for the trust, and for the chance to share a part of the road with you.

Countries I’ve Visited

Albania, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Croatia, Czech Republic, Hungary, Montenegro, Netherlands, Poland, Russian Federation, Serbia, Spain, Turkey

Countries I’ve Lived In

Canada, Montenegro, Ukraine

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