The artist is currently working on her ongoing project “Feelings in Plastic,” where corporeality becomes a lens through which she examines social expectations — how society shapes the images of a “normal” man and an “acceptable” woman, prescribing forms, roles, and limits of expression.
Through a series of large-scale paintings and graphic works, the artist explores the state of emotional isolation of a contemporary human being — metaphorically “wrapped” in plastic, confined within systems of norms, fears, and external demands.
The project merges physical flesh with psychological vulnerability, inviting the viewer to confront their own sense of constraint — and, at the same time, the possibility of liberation.
Part I — The Female Experience
The first chapter explores how women “package” their feelings inside themselves.
Plastic becomes a metaphor for social expectations — the invisible yet tangible constraints shaped by phrases such as “be a good girl,” “don’t be too loud,” or “hold yourself together.”
The wrap is transparent, yet it defines the body’s outline and restricts its movement, turning the invisible pressure of social norms into a visible surface.
These are bodies enclosed in a film that appears weightless, but carries the full gravity of conformity.
Part II — The Male Narrative
The second chapter reflects on the social pressures and labels imposed on men: “boys don’t cry,” “a man must always move forward,” “a man must be strong.”
Here, the plastic becomes a metaphor for these invisible expectations. Beneath it — bloody tears, a sign that vulnerability does not disappear just because it is forbidden to exist.
This is a study of hidden pain and the fragile tension that lies beneath the idea of masculinity.
Part III — Invisible Boundaries of the Female Experience (in art, profession, and society)
The third chapter explores the invisible boundaries of the female experience — in art, in the professional sphere, and in society.
These boundaries are transparent yet tangible: works by women artists are consistently undervalued, they remain significantly underrepresented in museum collections, and auction records continue to be dominated by men. Even the sale of Marlene Dumas’s Miss January (1997) for $13.6 million at Christie’s in May 2025 was treated as an exception — precisely because such moments are still called “records.”
In the professional field, inequality appears in lower salaries for the same work and in the “motherhood penalty,” where having a child limits career growth.
Plastic here becomes the embodiment of these barriers — it conceals nothing, yet it defines and restrains, shaping the body and denying it freedom.
My personal attitude to this subject is impartial. I simply record the facts and show reality as it is. By transforming facts into an artistic language, I give the viewer the opportunity to see the existing reality through the images created on the canvas.
“Feelings in Plastic” is born not only as an idea but as a living process in the studio. I work with live models — with their breathing, weight, and physical response. Plastic wrap is not a decorative element but a real shell into which bodies are sealed. The way it is placed is crucial: it is always applied with meaning, reflecting the constraints I explore.
The blood in the project is an imitation, but it is created to appear as visceral as possible: special liquids that intensify the metaphor of inner pain and tension.
Each chapter is developed with a team: a professional photographer captures the moment when the body and the plastic enter into dialogue. It is not a static pose but a living experience, in which both the model and the viewer activate their own associations.







