43x43 in (110x110 cm), oil on canvas2014Winter is the sound of crunching snow under your feet, it’s the eyelashes covered with frost-dew, it’s the hot tea from a thermos bottle. Everyone in the world knows about Siberian winters, the long season that I used to live through in Tyumen and Novosibirsk. At first you can see nothing, the painting is just white like a blizzard, but once you take a closer look you discover an ear-flapped hat, felt boots, and mittens.
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