Images That Carry More Than They Show
I never approach symbolic posters as simple images. For me, they behave more like layered fields, where meaning is not placed on the surface but held within it. A symbolic poster does not explain itself, and that is exactly where its depth comes from. It allows forms to exist without immediate clarity, as if they are carrying something that does not belong entirely to the present moment. I am always more interested in what an image holds than in what it openly shows.
What Symbols Remember Before We Do
Many of the motifs I return to in my work are not invented by me. They come from visual traditions that existed long before I started drawing—folk ornament, ritual markings, botanical symbolism, and fragments of pagan imagery. In Slavic traditions, symbols were rarely decorative. They were used to protect, to mark transitions, to hold meaning that could not be spoken directly. When I work on symbolic posters, I feel like I am entering into that same system, where images behave less like illustrations and more like carriers of memory.
The Botanical As A Language, Not Decoration
Flowers appear often in my symbolic posters, but I never treat them as purely aesthetic elements. In many cultural traditions, plants were associated with cycles, thresholds, and states of being. Certain flowers marked life stages, others were connected to protection or transformation. I am drawn to botanical forms because they already carry this layered history. When I distort them, repeat them, or place them in unfamiliar contexts, I am not removing their meaning—I am extending it.
Faces, Doubles, And The Idea Of The Inner Self
I often return to faces and doubled figures in my work, and this is not accidental. Across mythological and folkloric systems, the idea of the double appears repeatedly—the shadow self, the mirrored identity, the presence that exists alongside but is not fully visible. In symbolic posters, these figures do not function as portraits. They become structures through which inner states are expressed. A face can split, repeat, or dissolve, not to distort identity, but to reveal that identity is never singular.
Ornament As A System Of Meaning
Ornament, for me, is never just decoration. In many folk traditions, repetitive patterns were used as a form of visual protection, a way of stabilising space and holding meaning through rhythm. I carry this logic into my symbolic posters, where repetition creates a sense of continuity rather than excess. Patterns are not added to fill space; they exist as structures that organise perception. They slow the viewer down, making the image feel denser and more contained at the same time.
Softness That Holds Tension
There is often a softness in my work—curved lines, floral shapes, flowing compositions—but it is never purely gentle. This softness holds tension inside it. I am interested in that balance, where something appears delicate but carries a deeper, more complex emotional charge. In symbolic posters, this creates a feeling that is difficult to define, somewhere between comfort and unease. It reflects the way emotional experience itself rarely exists in clear categories.
A Language That Does Not Need To Explain Itself
Symbolic posters do not rely on narrative in the traditional sense. They do not tell a story with a beginning and an end. Instead, they operate through accumulation—of symbols, references, associations, and visual echoes. I see this as a language that does not need translation, because it works on a level that is already familiar, even if it is not consciously understood. The more time I spend with these images, the more I realise that their meaning is not something to decode once, but something that continues to unfold.
