In my series "The Words," I explore the unique character of the Russian language—and through it, the uniqueness of my own artistic lens. To what extent do I, as a Russian-speaking neuroartist, belong to a global community when we use the same tools, yet think within different linguistic systems?

Identity is the totality of ideas, sensations, and beliefs that an artist holds about themselves. It is a belonging to a culture, a language, a worldview. I think and speak in Russian. Words, with their semantic nuances, rhythm, and phonetics, form the foundation of my system of perceiving the world, and consequently, of my art.

When creating works with neural networks, I encountered a fundamental reality: I have to describe my ideas in English—even if they were originally conceived in Russian. This process of translation causes a loss not only of precision but also of an intuitive emotional charge. Gradually, I came to understand that the very act of translating words into prompts has become a way for me to comprehend the boundaries of my own identity. It is here, at the intersection of languages, that cultural specificity is laid bare, and a vantage point for self-observation as an artist emerges.
T
he Russian language contains words that have no direct equivalents in other languages. Translating prompts distorts the nuances of concepts crucial to my artistic identity, such as "toska," "smysl," "sovest," and "bytie." In my series "The Words," I explore how an image becomes distorted when its meaning crosses a linguistic boundary.

/toska/ — is a profound, soul-deep anguish that is difficult to describe: it can be sadness, pain, an inner void, or a yearning for something vague and unattainable. It is a state where boredom, sorrow, anxiety, and even love can be intertwined. Neither "melancholy" nor "longing" fully captures the depth of this emotion, which is so deeply rooted in Russian culture.

/smysl/ — It is not merely "meaning," as in the English word, but something greater: an inner essence, a sense of purpose, a reason for being. It can be a personal understanding of life, the hidden logic behind events, or a philosophical search for order within chaos. One can "search for," "lose," or "attain" smysl, and each time, it carries not only a rational but also a profound emotional charge.

/sovest/ — It is an inner moral compass, a living and often agonizing voice that compels a person to be honest with themselves. It is not simply "conscience," as in the English sense, but something almost sacred: a deep shame before oneself, a feeling of guilt that is independent of external judgment, and a readiness to bear moral responsibility even in complete solitude.

/bytie/ — It is not merely "existence" or "being," but a feeling of deep connection to the world. It is a philosophical, almost metaphysical concept encompassing all that is—the visible and the invisible, the temporal and the eternal. In the Russian context, one can experience, contemplate, and attune oneself to bytie—it is imbued with meaning, silence, and a profound sense of presence.