What is your process for beginning a new piece—do you start with a specific image or an emotion?

Whenever I see homeless people around the town, I'm trying to take a snapshot. It started with sneak pics when I was just taking pictures on the run, trying to be unnoticed. Doing this felt kinda awkward, as if I was doing something wrong. I also ask my friends to send me pics of the homeless they happen to come across when they're in the city center. Most of these photos are bad (low quality, lack of composition, blurred all over), so there's a lot of photoshopping to be done before I touch the canvas.

Once I met a Swedish guy begging for money in the central part of Warsaw. He told me a story about coming to Poland for work and being fucked over by the employer. Apparently, his family didn't care to help him out as well, so he ended up in the streets, in a shitty place far away from home. For some reason, he refused to deal with the Swedish embassy - he was hiding or maybe running away from something, apparently. But hey, who are we either to judge him or give our stupid advice, when all of us have dirty little secrets? The guy was so picturesque and relatable, that I gave him 10 bucks in exchanged for a couple of photos. These were the first staged pics that I made on my terms without the need to photograph someone sneakily.

In terms of quality, they were much better than the mess I dealt with before, so I started giving money to the people I was taking pictures of. As it turned out, there was nothing to be shy about - these guys need money, so it's the least I can do for them. Besides, they pose for the photos quite eagerly. By the way, the Swedish guy - his name is Brian - I have a portrait of him available for purchase. If anyone decides to buy, Brian will receive all the money from it.

Despite the dark themes, your art offers hope. How do you ensure your work conveys this message of resilience?

In my opinion, there's neither hope nor resilience there. It's more of a record of what I observe. The Kazakh have a specific word for it - aqyn - which means a nomadic bard that sings about the things he sees around him. Not more, not less. I'd gladly leave it as is, but if I was forced to find a deeper meaning, I'd say it's frustration about humanity.

On one hand, I fucking hate people, yet on the other I feel very sorry for them. When I lived in Minsk (Belarus), a homeless man briefly stayed in our block. He bummed cigarettes from me, and we talked. Turned out, he used to be a physics professor. I can't recall how he ended up there, but what I remember clearly though are his words, "you're just one paycheck away from me". Like, seriously, is he wrong?

The system we exist in gives no chance to the poor while making rich people even richer.

Empathy and compassion have lost, it's done for and nothing can fix that. So there's no hope whatsoever - I just do what I do with a grain of sadness and compassion (maybe, this is why some people find my works somewhat affecting). The homeless man, by the way - neighbors called the police on him because of the stench he spread in the block, and he disappeared.

How do you see your work contributing to larger conversations about identity, struggle, and freedom?

To be perfectly honest, I don't see much potential of my work to contribute anything to larger conversations in any way. At best, a rich collector might condescend to buying my paintings, so that I'd be able to donate part of the proceeds directly to the homeless (omitting charity) - that would be a win for everyone involved. At worst, I'd just be casting pearls before swine and my works will keep getting stacked in my attic, collecting dust.

I'd certainly love for my art to make a broader impact - especially now during winter, when seeing people suffer in the streets feels unbearable.

Let's be realistic - nothing will change, though. Charity is just another corrupt place for money laundry, and for those who fall to the very bottom of the system, it's almost impossible to find a way back. Once you're out there with no money at all (and most of us are just one paycheck away from it), that's it - you're done for. Identity and freedom become irrelevant luxuries, only struggle remains.

So, the only way for my art to achieve anything is through social media, I guess. New subscribers, comments and shares are okay, but if by any chance it goes viral, that would be awesome. It would bring some awareness of the invisible - acknowledge the homeless as humans rather than just background noise. That's about as much as I can hope for, and even that feels like a stretch.

What advice would you give to artists grappling with mental health issues or political displacement?

To give advice to other artists, one has to be considered an authority, which I'm not. I can just offer a few thoughts and nothing more than that. Since both mental health issues and political displacement can push you towards the edge, the only advice that comes to my mind is, don't become the next subject of my paintings.

Political displacement is a deeply personal and extremely stressful story for every individual who happens to deal with it, so I'd rather not go into that. But when it comes to mental health, here's what I've learned: if you feel like spiraling, start with cutting out substances. Weed might be great for painting, but it also amplifies paranoia big time.

Coke can heighten emotions, amphetamine (oxy or whatever you have there) makes you exasperated, and so on. If that doesn't help, don't hesitate to see a specialist. There's nothing to be ashamed of when it comes to seeking help - it's must be done no matter what. Also, try to build a solid circle of friends. Humans are essentially social creatures, and isolation only makes things worse, even for hardcore introverts. Friends in need will arrange an intervention when you start losing yourself, and they will keep you grounded when life sucks most.

What do you hope viewers feel or take away when they engage with your work?

I'd rather start with a short speculation about the purpose of art and then proceed to an honest response. So, obviously, art should provoke emotions - whether beautiful, horrifying, or indescribable. For me, the intensity of those feelings is the true measure of great impactful art. If a painting hits like a blow to the head, then I admire the artist behind it. Masters like Phil Hale and Gottfried Helnwein excel at this, but neither of them are close to Yulia Kosulnikova - a lesser known Russian artist.

Check it out:

https://beyond-establishment.ru/kosulnikova

https://shirotadolgota.com/kosulnikova

https://ar.culture.ru/ru/person/kosulnikova-yu

Her work is so raw and merciless that viewers instinctively look away at exhibitions, unable to face it for long. I wish I was as awesome as her, but it seems to be impossible. My stuff is quieter and filled with sadness (at least, that's how I feel), but if someone feels something else, it's fine too. Honestly, though? I don't really give a fuck what viewers feel. Emotions won't put food on my table or help fund my art, including my effort to support homeless guys. At the end of the day, selling my work matters most - it's the only way I keep going and continue helping where I can.

What advice would you give other artists starting out on their journey?

By no means am I entitled to advise, but here we go. First, draw a lot of hands as an exercise - it always comes in handy, lol. Second, the truth is, no matter where you live, your local art scene is probably rotten to the core. Without connections or a willingness to suck dicks, you have no business being there.

The secret of top art dealers is that they help launder money through art that can be valued anywhere from zero to six million dollars for a rotten banana. You won't be let anywhere near that feeding trough, so you'll have to rely entirely on yourself or blind luck.

That means regularly updating your social media, keeping an eye on open calls on Instagram, and basically knocking on every door - because one might eventually open. If possible, set up a personal portfolio website for your work. It doesn't have to be super fancy - even if it's thrown together at the cost of a bottle of vodka, it'll make you look more serious when applying for open calls or residencies.

To avoid starving, get a job where you don't have to do much. There are plenty of those - business development managers, account executives, client success managers - all that crap doesn't require a degree, and you can earn a basic salary to spend on canvases and paint. Best of luck.