• Stories

    Changchun

    Changchun, China, 2017

    I like the story about Changchun, because many weird and wonderful things had happened there. Also, how I got to that city was pretty fascinating. One day after teaching a Russian private lesson, my student and I went to check out COFA campus in Paddington*. While strolling around easels, artworks and tables chaotically positioned in the room, we started a conversation with an international student from China, who was working on her group installation project. It turns that that she studied Russian language in Jilin University in Changchun and was very happy to chat to us in Russian. We became friends and she linked me up with her friend in Changchun who was studying Masters specialising in the Russian language. Coincidently, I had a friend from Russia studying in Changchun Normal University who kindly offered to stay with her. 

    The next day after arriving to Changchun I realised that I couldn’t even cross the street independently. Too much traffic and no rules made me frozen in front of a road, but kind Chinese strangers helped me out.  

    I delivered a workshop at Jilin University about learning and teaching Russian in Sydney, Australia and I was impressed with a high level of their speaking abilities and their dedication to learning. 

    It was time to move on, the next stop was Harbin, then Khabarovsk, and from there – my hometown, Komsomolsk-on-Amur.

     

    *Paddington is a suburb in Sydney, Australia.

  • Stories

    Canberra

    Photo credit: Arina Zinoveva March 2017

    If I think about the brightest and the most intense memory from Canberra, I think about a day spent in a shopping centre with my laptop translating an passage for the UNSW Masters of Translation and Interpreting program where I really wanted to study back then. Why is this memory so intense and how does it link to my current life? I think because in that moment, I wasn’t sure that my efforts would take me to some place. Even though I worked hard on being accepted into that master program, at the back of my mind, I was wondering if that was the right thing to do. I know now that a lot of things we do in life, we aren’t sure about, and it’s Ok to have doubts. What’s more important is to keep acting on our ideas and one day these ideas will materialise in a visible outcome. Three years after that day sitting in the mall, I was working in a translation and localisation company in London. Even though my job wasn’t to translate the text, but to proofread and test it in a video game, I felt a sense of fulfilment. For many years I wanted to try and work in the translation industry, and eventually a right opportunity showed up at my door steps. 

    Some ideas are too fragile and don’t stick around in our consciousness, but some ideas are so deeply ingrained into our emotional and physical being, we keep being driven back to them. For these kind of ideas, I have a special place in my soul. Not always can I explain why certain ideas need to be implemented, but I keep them in my memory, and do a little bit at a time to make them happen. After all, these ideas constitute who I am and how I sit in the world, how I relate to others, and perhaps, the value I want to bring into my community.

  • Stories

    Experiment

    Combining materials to see what it looks and feels like, hoping to find a combination of media that will evoke that unique emotion. Art exists for many reasons, and one of them is to externalise the complex thoughts that swirl around in the body. These thoughts travel around the body going to its different parts. They carry information that sometimes is essential for survival, but sometimes these ephemeral ideas do not need to solidify into a concrete action. When the latter happens, art can become an avenue for materialising ideas. Art is a process of refining thoughts: discarding what’s not necessary and keeping only what brings a real value. 

  • Stories

    Are mistakes lessons?

    Dirt covered with strokes of white colour to hide mistakes and pretend they never happened. Incorporated pink patches are there to conceptualise the mistakes and convert them into lessons.

  • Stories

    The view from above

    You are in a helicopter looking down on Finsbury Park in London: people are gathered in small groups that are scattered around. You are walking by yourself to observe and absorb what’s happening; you don’t want to be involved. The direction you take is not calculated, it is random. Anything can happen around the corner: perhaps, you will discover a bunch of dying roses or a friend calls you all of a sudden. The walk itself is what you need right now. The movement of your body is aligned with the movement of your thoughts. The memories of the past and imaginative stories of the future are interrupted by the practical ideas of the present moment. You maintain a connection to the land, to this community, to this city, and you want to stay grounded and realistic, but the thick air, cosy clouds and unexpected conversations with strangers tell you that there is so much more that just “right here and right now”, your life stretches beyond the physicality of space you are in. There is something that is reaching out in multiple directions. It’s out of your control.