Art has a unique way of turning walls into windows—windows that look out onto memories, emotions, and distant places we’ve loved, dreamed of, or hope to one day see. For me, painting landscapes and cities isn’t just about documenting what I’ve seen—it’s about preserving what I’ve felt. And often, it’s about inviting others to feel it with me.

One of the most defining chapters of my life began unexpectedly: I spent a year and a half living in Istanbul, not as a traveler, but as a refugee from Ukraine. Istanbul became my home during one of the most difficult times in my life. Yet, through the uncertainty, that city offered me something extraordinary—beauty, comfort, rhythm, and endless inspiration. I fell in love with it. The architecture, the contrast of shadow and light, the Bosphorus shimmering at dusk, the chaotic charm of the streets—all of it stayed with me, long after I left.

That’s why Istanbul lives on in so many of my paintings. Some of these artworks now live in other countries, having found new homes and collectors who also felt a connection to this city through my brush. But my inspiration hasn’t run dry—I still paint Istanbul, and new ideas keep coming. In fact, I’m currently working on new series where the city plays a subtle, symbolic role, appearing as memories, silhouettes, or fragments of atmosphere.

If Istanbul speaks to you too—if you’ve been there, dream of going, or simply love its energy—you’re welcome to explore my shop Showing . You’ll find paintings of various sizes, from small 15×15 cm works to large canvases measuring 60×80 cm and more. Each one carries a part of my experience, my admiration, and my stories.

But the story doesn’t end with Istanbul.

While living there, I took in a street cat who followed me one day. She became part of my family, traveled back to Ukraine with me, and now quietly sits beside me as I paint. She, and other cats like her, often appear in my urban landscapes—not just as characters, but as symbols of independence, mystery, and comfort. People sometimes tell me that these feline figures are what drew them into the painting and made them feel at home. I love that.

When I can’t travel physically, I do it through my work. I explore other places by painting them. Sometimes I use photographs or postcards as reference, and I let my imagination do the rest. One of my favorite ongoing projects is a small-format series of landscapes that look like vintage postcards. They’re painted in oil on thick, high-quality paper, and they carry the feeling of a quiet, personal memory—whether it’s a quiet street in Japan, a view of Venice at dusk, or a secluded beach on the Mediterranean.

You don’t need to be a traveler to bring the world into your home. Through art, you can surround yourself with places that inspire you, calm you, excite you, or simply make you feel something. Whether it’s a corner of Istanbul, a fragment of a dreamscape, or a memory you can’t quite put into words—art has a way of finding the right place on your wall and in your heart.

Art doesn’t just decorate a space—it brings it to life. And sometimes, it brings the world a little closer.
While I’ve shared some of the personal stories behind my paintings—like how Istanbul became a part of my life and my art—what truly brings a piece to life is the story it finds in your home. Every artwork that speaks to you carries the potential to reflect your journey, not just mine. Maybe it reminds you of a place you once wandered through, a city that captured your heart, or a landscape that matches a dream destination still waiting on your list.

Even if it’s simply a peaceful forest or a winding street, it might stir up memories from childhood, bring calm after a busy day, or inspire movement and imagination. Art doesn’t end with the brushstroke—it continues with how you see it, live with it, and make it a part of your everyday story. And then, the painting is no longer mine — it becomes yours.