During my childhood in Siberia, I often spent time reading and looking at the pictures in the encyclopedias that were in abundance in my father’s library. The long winter, lasting up to six months, contributed to the intellectual pastime. One day, I came across a reproduction of a Japanese painting. In ink, against an ocher background, was a bald-headed gentleman looking forward, where the trees stood and the mountain rose. The picture was painted so delicately and it had everything that I lacked: peace, contemplation, trees in foliage, rivers and mountains in fog. Since then, I have lost peace and began to look for the harmony contained in art. Through the magic lantern of art, I try to express myself and the events of my life. The entire life may not be enough to search for harmony. But the meaning is in the journey itself, in the very attempt to find this harmony of life, and reflect it on canvas, paper, wood, or other material.