The first work begins with the idea of the Black Square—not so much as an ultimate form, but as a question about what lies beyond it. I used the sounds of bells, each sound generating a brief animation of a pulsating colored circle. The circle emerges, expands, and slowly fades away together with the resonance of the bell.
More than thirty sounds, mapped onto the keys of a computer keyboard, allow the creation of simple compositions of sound and color. To me, this is a metaphor for the birth of thought—the colors are the connections between neural impulses, and their combination into melody creates the perception of a complete phenomenon, naturally leading us to the next stage.
The second work explores the way thought becomes abstraction. Within a square I cut triangles, circles, and squares, organizing them into three separate layers. Their overlapping generates an abstract composition in constant transformation.
By interactively rearranging the layers—placing the squares in front, then the triangles, then the circles—new visual relationships emerge. The same happens with color. The three primary colors—yellow, red, and blue—alter the perception of the composition without changing its structure.
To this I add sound composed of three elements: piano, human voice, and the sound of the sea. Thus, different modes of perception arise, different combinations and permutations of the same thought. This is the space in which abstraction exists as possibility.
When abstract thought becomes too complex, the time of the symbol arrives.
A symbol contains far more information within itself, much like an archetype. In the third work I focus on six colors, constructing around them a system of personal associations.
The symbols appear as a dance of thoughts—they emerge from a human head, move to the rhythm of specially composed music, forming a thread of meanings, and at the end of the melody they return to consciousness, now ordered and harmonized.
What is fascinating here is that the viewer may choose the sequence of colors and thus create different combinations of symbols and meanings. Green, red, and blue tell one story; yellow, orange, blue, and red tell another.
Gradually, a complete visual narrative takes shape, in which symbols dance like the figures of Matisse—free, rhythmic, and inseparably connected.
After following this line—Malevich, Kandinsky, Matisse—I felt the need to release the accumulated tension. The image of the wind emerged.
I created a small interactive animation in which a square rotates with the movement of the mouse, changes its colors, and is accompanied by the sound of wind.
For me, this is an essential part of the overall concept, because wind not only carries energy; it stirs what has become stagnant, dismantles old forms, and opens space for the new.
I naturally moved toward a deeply personal subject: cosmic utopias and my childhood dream of becoming an astronaut.
I tell this story through eight digital slides. Each contains a kaleidoscopic animation that gradually dissolves the original image into abstraction. Around the circular form revolves a text of questions, dreams, and memories.
In one slide, a childhood photograph of myself dressed as an astronaut appears. Around it circles the question:
"What should I become—a doctor, a mechanic, a teacher? Utopias or clichés from childhood?"
Gradually, the image breaks apart, as if viewed through a kaleidoscopic lens, transforming into a moving abstraction.
Then comes a rocket, accompanied by the words:
"Astronaut—I dreamed of becoming an astronaut."
And once again: dissolution, transformation, a new image.
With each subsequent slide, I reveal how this utopia has evolved over the years, until I arrive at a simple conclusion: I still dream.
And dreaming is the essence of creative thinking.
It is the reason I am a creator, and not merely an artist.
Thus I return to the beginning—to the idea of thought being secreted within the cerebral cortex.
The circle closes.
Thought is born, becomes abstraction, symbol, utopia, and eventually returns to itself.