This objects appeared as a result of reflections on the memory, I suppose. Or as a result of thinking about openness of the memory, or as a result of how the memory is reconstructing something once head. The object is made of two parts and two stories. These unreal or unbelievable stories were head in childhood in the interaction with imagine constructed in my memory some ideas. These ideas became inspirations for some images in this object.      
The first part – is a picture on canvas named “How pan Vlodko made a proposal to Maria Magdalena”. Three pictures were painted in a form of collage: as if a portrait of Maria Magdalena, as if a portrait of pan Vlodko and something like an event when pan Vlodko is keeping a gun in his hand and panna Maria Magdalena in her mouth. This paint is an illustration of the story I’ve head from my grandpa and grandma. This story is connected with pre-Soviet times and with other époque. With the époque which was like the other world in my imagination. That was the world when everything was possible…The stories were functioning like words in a song, like frames in a film, like facts in a typical biography of a pop-culture representative.    
The second part of the object consists of two artifacts but four pictures. This part has a relation to my grandpa’s brother story, to the memory of grandpa’s brother Roman. He was a painter and it was he who made these artifacts as my dad says. Roman has died in Kulpark till I was born. My relatives did not preserve anything except these things. One of the memories is the story of his marriage. About the marriage that was not realized because when he came to a church the bride was taking marriage with someone else...
These artifacts are quite presentable works made on black paper, reversible stereotypical pictures:

• obverse – a portrait of like a Gutsul women and reverse – like a personification of love.
• obverse – a portrait of like a Gutsul man and reverse – like a personification of love.

The video ‘spitting’ presents a repetitive action of what looks like an aimless, useless machine, eliminating its own action. we implanted a bug in its operating system so it occasionally gets stuck. This might be a talk about life as an endless birth and death machine-a process that we would like to see as a linear progress towards some goal, but we are actually groping in the dark for meaning most of the time, and can not seem to find one. The unity of divinity is hidden in the world under countless screens,
masks and templates, we believe, and our aim is to reveal the true nature of reality as pure divinity. But this spiritual work is so intense and we mostly fail to do so. this is a kind of a sad rip-off on that sublime idea; The spit functions here as ‘the essence of life’ fluid, and the process of its infinite emission and absorption unites us with disgust. The glass that separates us from the camera, us from the viewer, is a representation of that masking on reality. The spit thrown at it is functioning as another masking layer, a second screen.

Maybe we should stop to repeat words, but multiple gestures. Mantric fortress built of tongue tube. Shall tongue scratch sharp tooth, let it wound itself, let it bleed, bleeding pink and dripping from mouth. What more. Mantra will become a visible mark, a scar on a virgin womb, let it rip the hymen and whole body bleeds. Let whole life feel being raped by tender lover, let life be penetrated, large penis tensed up by a touch. Ejaculating here through thumbs, pearly liquid dripping from under the nails.