Anyone reading this page of my blog likely knows that the artist is a skilled illustrator whose collections can be found in Europe, the Middle East, and the Americas, and who actively exhibits her work across Canada. However, few are aware that since 2020, in addition to producing short films, she has published several children’s books and actively participates in competitions.
Olena Polishchuk participates in competitions and has her work published in Ukrainian magazines and anthologies. A new series of her stories for children was released quite recently. The author has developed a unique way of connecting with her readers: she records her stories and posts them on social media as short films. This appeals to young children, as well as to adults who want their little ones to drift off to a lovely children’s story in Ukrainian or watch a film that helps them fall asleep peacefully.
What are her stories about? Today, I will talk about her latest work: The Foundling. It is a touching sketch about a grandfather and his granddaughter sharing a cozy evening as winter approaches. An exhausted kitten, discovered in a corner of the yard, melts the old man’s gruff heart, transforming a cold, snowy evening into a celebration of kindness and love.
Below, I am providing a link where you can watch and listen to this wise, kind, and beautiful story. Enjoy watching!
What do you do when it’s raining outside, when you want to take your mind off things, change your mood, and explore art?It is difficult for me to hear your answers. I am going to a museum. I am going to enjoy art, because it is within me—because I live it and create it.
And so, right around the turn of September and October, I visited this magnificent museum. I parked my car in the lot—there are plenty of spaces—and paid the $10 daily fee online. I bought a ticket, also for $10, and entered the largest hall, which houses the permanent exhibition.
There have been many changes. It seems to me that everything here has stood still since its founder passed away last year. At the entrance, there is a plaque bearing his portrait that recounts his life, his dates of birth and death, and his crowning achievement—the creation of this museum.
The museum houses more than 1,000 rare artifacts spanning thousands of years of history, from exquisite Andalusian pottery to opulent Mughal-era manuscripts.
A truly unique cultural center in Toronto (North York), it was the first museum in North America dedicated entirely to the art and civilizations of the Islamic world. The main building, designed by renowned architect Fumihiko Maki, is striking for its futuristic white architecture and abundance of natural light, while a picturesque park featuring reflecting pools spreads out around it. I missed the temporary exhibition, as they were just preparing to open the next one. I should mention right away that an immersive exhibition titled “SpaceMosque” is taking place this October: a visionary exhibition by artist Saks Afridi opens on October 24, 2026.
As I walked through the exhibition, I was once again struck by the exquisite, intricate craftsmanship of the woodcarvers who created this door—which is over 200 years old.
Simply magnificent.
In the hall near the entrance, opposite the café, music was playing, and a woman was singing a song by Fairuz. It all reminded me of the years long ago when I lived in the Middle East and that kind of atmosphere surrounded me. Today, I visit the museum to recapture that feeling and to enjoy that world.
Autumn brings more than just a change in the colors of the trees and grass; it also brings changes within a person—especially when you are over sixty. A few years ago, I fell in love with traveling around Ontario. While I do travel beyond our province, driving across several provinces remains a dream of mine. I want to point out that traveling within Ontario is just as interesting as traveling elsewhere. For instance, this autumn began with me discovering the beauty and richness of our region, known as Kawartha Lakes.
I visited Peterborough—a hub of industry, culture, and agriculture, the center of life in the Kawartha Lakes region, and the gateway to the hill country with its charming parks and forests. Peterborough is delightful in any weather, but it is especially beautiful in the autumn. Not far away lies the small town of Omemee, where we stopped on our way back from Peterborough.Omemee is a community within the city of Kawartha Lakes, Ontario, Canada, formerly known as Victoria County. The community had a population of 1,247 in the Canada 2011 Census. It is located between the city of Peterborough and the community of Lindsay.The population there is probably even smaller now. Situated along Highway 7 right on the Pigeon River, it is positioned about halfway between the community of Lindsay and the city of Peterborough. Derived from the Mississaugas Anishinaabemowin word o-mimi, which means “pigeon”, the town serves as a scenic gateway for travelers exploring the wider Kawartha Lakes region.”Pigeon”—it’s a beautiful name, isn’t it? The river here is called Pigeon, and there’s a lake further up. A bridge separates the river from the lake. The scenery is truly picturesque.
This place has inspired—and continues to inspire—many who have visited it. A famous singer Neil Young was born and raised here.
If you enjoy hiking trails as much as I do, the longest trail runs nearby-The Kawartha Trans Canada Trail.
Emily Provincial Park-that’s a story in itself, and it’s so interesting that I highly recommend visiting it.
Located just outside the town center along the Pigeon River, this park is a popular hub for camping, canoeing, fishing, and fall-colour viewing.
Let’s return to this wonderful city—it truly makes you fall in love at first sight. I am actually very fond of the small towns in Ontario; they hold long, rich, and fascinating histories. It is because of stories and towns like these that you fall deeply in love with—and come to appreciate—this rugged and fascinating country, Canada.
A walk down Omemee’s main street highlights a beautiful 19th-century brick facade. You can check out the Omemee Cenotaph—which features a rare 1800s 9-pounder muzzle-loading gun—it is located at an intersection, right in the city center. And although it is small in size, the fact that it is authentic makes it valuable.
The history of Omemee, Ontario is a classic Canadian story of a 19th-century pioneer boomtown. It evolved from a vital riverside mill into a bustling railway hub, before transitioning into the quiet, heritage-focused community it is today.
It is wonderful to come and see historic buildings—over a century old—that have remained untouched by time.
Before European colonization, the area along the Pigeon River was a long-standing hunting and camping ground for a family of the Mississaugas Anishinaabeg.
In the 19th century, Irish immigrants built a mill and a sawmill here; the town stood at a crossroads. People hunted, trapped fur-bearing animals, and fished in the surrounding forests, while grain was grown on the nearby land—producing goods for trade and food for the growing population.
Interestingly, he had many names -Williamstown (1835),Metcalfe (1840s),Omemee (1857).Because “Williamstown” and “Metcalfe” were being used by other towns in Ontario, postal confusion arose. The town permanently adopted Omemee, derived from the Mississauga word for “pigeon”—a nod to the local indigenous camp and the vast flocks of passenger pigeons that used to migrate through the river valley.
The greatest flourishing of industry and economy, which influenced the development of this city, like many other cities that have now almost disappeared, occurred in 1850-1870.However, industrialization and the concentration of industry in major cities led to an exodus of the local population; many factories closed, and the town’s population dwindled to just 467 people by 1920.
Today, it is a quiet town where pensioners lead a calm, unhurried life; people come for the summer cottage season, and there are also those who live there permanently while commuting to work in nearby cities.
I liked this little town right away, and I noticed that—even though it was early October and the trees were still green, so it didn’t quite feel like autumn yet given the weather this year—the residents were already getting ready for both Thanksgiving and Halloween.
Something tells me that this is simply our spirit, our character. If you’re ever in Ontario, pay a visit here. Remember: Pigeon. It’s a beautiful little town Omemee with an interesting history, located right on Highway 7.
With the arrival of October, the calendar of events shifts lazily. Autumn, too, arrives at a leisurely pace. It knows we aren’t going anywhere—that we’ll have to dress more warmly, spend more time indoors eating through the stores we gathered over the summer, and venture out less into the rain and snow. It knows that the trees, however comfortable they may feel, must shed their leaves. And how tired I am of clearing away the neighbors’ leaves—leaves from their trees that fall not onto their own property, but right onto ours, thanks to the way the branches lean. Oh well; I’ll climb onto the roof again and trim back the neighbors’ branches that grow toward our side. The neighbors couldn’t care less. They won’t pay for such services, yet they pretend to be diligent about maintaining their landscaping. So, I’ll climb up and clear my roof to prevent rot—after all, I’m the one who would have to pay for the repairs if it were damaged. Then I’ll gather everything lying on my property, rake the leaves into special bags, and set them out for trash collection. I’ll free my plants and ready them for winter: pruning the dead growth, mounding soil around the three fruit trees, and bundling the raspberry bushes in preparation for the coming snow. And then I’ll head north. I’ll welcome the first day of October in the truly wild northern reaches of Ontario—amidst waterfalls, dense forests, winding trails, and rocky cliffs. I plan to write a story about this and enter it into a competition; the call for submissions is already out, and the deadline is approaching. I’ll paint another autumn landscape based on this, and next time you’ll see it in person. After that, I’ll celebrate all the family birthdays that fall during this period; I have a wonderful, large family with many birthdays around this time. Then, I’ll start taking new psychology courses. Why do I need them? I’m familiar with the Soviet-era psychology of the 1980s. A lot has changed since then, and—with retirement just a year and a half away—I need to acquire new knowledge. After all, science and the thirst for learning haven’t gone anywhere. The previous courses were just the beginning; now comes the continuation.
The next step is preparing for the workshop. Right now, I’m in a bit of a holding pattern regarding this. The responsibility weighing on me involves several key questions: will people actually be interested in this? Can I effectively present it to the organization hosting the workshop? And what will I personally gain from the event? So, I’m diving into October with plans, fresh thoughts, and a host of interesting ideas. Meanwhile, a Blue Jay has just swooped in outside my window, whistling and singing its distinctive song. This bird is a symbol of the local Ontario area; I love it for its feisty personality—it’s a predator that attacks, commanding fear and respect from other birds and even squirrels. Today, it’s perched near the bird feeder. This bird has become a regular visitor; it settled in the area over a year ago and frequently comes by to forage. I also have plenty of local squirrels and a small rabbit—born this year. If the neighbors don’t eat him, he’ll go on to have offspring of his own. I hope he’s craftier than my neighbors. And, of course, there are my three male Chihuahuas who keep watch over the place.
The culinary phenomenon of sushi begin in Japan, but rather as an ancient fish preservation method in Southeast Asia along the Mekong River. It evolved over a thousand years from a pungent, fermented survival food into the fresh, fast-paced delicacy we recognize today.
The oldest form of sushi was as a method used in 2nd – 8th Century in Japan to preserve freshwater fish by packing it with salted, fermenting rice. The rice produced lactic acid to keep the fish from rotting. Crucially, the fermented rice was discarded because it turned mushy and foul-smelling—only the preserved fish was consumed.This is named Narezushi sushi and long history about this sushi I received from sources at the exhibition in Japanease Foundation this week.
Long before reaching Japan, the technique emerged in Southeast Asia—specifically along the Mekong River basin (modern-day Laos, Thailand, Cambodia) and Myanmar. Indigenous groups devised a way to scale, gut, salt, and pack freshwater river fish into barrels with cooked rice.
As the mixture sat, natural lactic acid bacteria consumed the rice carbohydrates. The resulting lactic acid acted as a heavy chemical shield, preventing standard decomposition bacteria from rotting the meat.
By the 2nd to 4th century CE, the method spread into southern China, where it reached peak popularity during the Song Dynasty. It migrated to Western Japan around the Yayoi Period and in appearance, it bore no resemblance whatsoever to our concept of sushi as such. It was the great-grandfather of our modern method of preparing sushi.The exhibition featured models of the earliest sushi and screened a film about its history.
Modern sushi is all about fresh, delicate seafood and eating the vinegared rice. Original narezushi was the complete opposite.Unlike the light taste of a modern roll, narezushi is notoriously pungent and incredibly sour. Scientifically, its odor profile has been measured as one of the most intense food smells in the world (often compared to an intensely sharp, aged blue cheese).
While modern nigiri dominates global cuisine, you can still eat authentic, ancient-style narezushi in a few historic pockets of Japan.
This technology has now been improved and is used in some dishes with certain types of fish. For example, for mackerel-boasting an 800-year history, mackerel is packed with rice and wrapped tightly in leaves. Because it’s only fermented for a few days, the rice is intentionally eaten alongside the fish.
For wild carp-aged up to 2–3 years. The fish bones completely soften, and the local delicacy is thinly sliced—often prized for its orange, cheese-like roe—and paired with sake.
As the practice spread to Japan, the Japanese fundamentally transformed it. Because rice was incredibly precious, people shortened the fermentation time to a month or two. This left the fish partially raw and the rice tangy but edible, creating the first version where both the fish and the rice were eaten together.
That is how they came into being Hamanare and Nama-narezushi in 14th – 15th Century in Japan.
With the widespread commercial production of rice vinegar, chefs discovered they could entirely bypass the lengthy fermentation process. By mixing vinegar directly into fresh rice, they could instantly mimic the sour taste of fermented sushi, inventing “fast sushi” and that is how they came into being Hayazushi (17th – 18th Century).
Later,in around 1820-s,a creative street-food peddler named Hanaya Yohei revolutionized the dish in the bustling city of Edo (modern-day Tokyo). To feed busy workers quickly, he began shaping small oblongs of seasoned rice by hand and topping them with fresh, raw slices of local fish caught straight from Tokyo Bay. This became the literal blueprint for modern sushi and for today in Tokyo we are have street Sushi Avenue,along which samurai transported prepared sushi.Nigiri sushi remains the most popular sushi in Japan to this day.
The history of using tuna in sushi making is interesting.Today, bluefin tuna (maguro) is the undisputed king of the sushi world, but it was historically despised in Japan. For centuries, tuna was considered an unlucky, low-class “garbage fish” (gezakana).
In ancient Japan, aristocratic diners strictly avoided tuna for three reasons: the old Japanese word for tuna was shibi. This was homophonous with the phrase shibi meaning “day of the dead,” making it highly taboo and bad luck to serve; tuna is a warm-blooded, highly metallic migratory fish and without refrigeration, its dark red meat oxidized and turned a repulsive, foul-smelling brown almost immediately after being caught; and when peasants had no choice but to eat it, they would sometimes bury the meat in the ground for four days to let it ferment, just to mask the bloody taste.
The true golden age of tuna didn’t arrive until after World War II, fueled by two massive shifts.
During the post-WWII American occupation, the Japanese diet rapidly shifted toward Westernized preferences for higher fat contents, beef, and dairy. Suddenly, the rich, buttery texture of toro went from greasy to luxurious.
By the 1960s and 70s, the invention of specialized electric flash-freezers (-60°C) and commercial air freight allowed global airlines like Japan Airlines (JAL) to transport perfectly preserved fresh bluefin from places like Atlantic Canada directly to Tokyo’s markets overnight.
Today the cuisine has evolved into a massive $18.28 billion global industry that blends strict Japanese tradition with high-tech automation and modern lifestyle values (The Businesse Research Canada).
Ironically, the ancient history of narezushi has come full circle. Some avant-garde chefs are now experimenting with using traditional Japanese koji (fermentation starter) to add intense, aged umami depth to contemporary seafood and fatty tuna (toro) dishes.
Here are the top local sushi spots right here in Etobicoke, grouped by style and budget:
IKKOI SUSHI&RAMEN at 5084 Dundas St.W.,(20-30 $ per dish),KIBO SUSHI at 4925 Dundas St.,W.,(20-30 $),SUSHI RUN at 3351 BLOOR ST.,W.,and very popular ,,all you can eat” K&B SUSHI at 1184 The Queensway.
Photo and video made by Helen Polishuk&Astra Production 2026.
To your delight, I’ll turn to the posts on my page. Unexpectedly, it was almost three months away, but it was not so wasted, I went to Europe, to the distant native Ukraine, spent an hour there, completed difficult important inquiries, turned back through all of Europe to Canada. Now I can give you news about the past, as well as about the current events that are happening around me.
You all know from past posts that I grew up listening music, I love both classical and modern music. I follow the music of the Renaissance, supported by an organization in Toronto, developing this directly.
I love music so much.
https://youtube.com/shorts/Gkhva192HIs?si=5oTla0Sts27mfh9- In the sense of the music of the indigenous peoples of Canada, the singer that has recently become known is especially dear to me, a singer with a very garish fantastic voice and a unique way of singing. This is Aysanabee.
He is a singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist who performs indie-pop and alternative rock music.
He made his debut in 2022 with an album WATIN(2022).The album is named after his grandfather; the name translates from Ojibwe as “quiet” and “weather.”
The album told the story of life in residential schools for Indigenous children and enjoyed immense popularity.
As his fame grew, he began receiving invitations to perform at major concerts across America and started winning awards; after all, his voice is captivating, as is his style of musical accompaniment. I am delighted that his subsequent albums have been released: NOMADS,SOMEBODY ELSE,WE WERE HERE.
For this reason I came to the SUPERCRAWL festival last week, on the 13th of Sunday in Hamilton.
He turned to perform at this festival. One of the first performances was at this festival, so he was able to continue the tradition and the completion of the festival was the performance of Aysanabee’s songs.
I arrived early for the concert to get a spot near the stage. I had a wonderful opportunity to watch this talented singer preparing for the show. It was great to see how meticulously and carefully he tuned his guitars and set up the microphones and sound system. And then, the highlight for me began—his performance. He has a band that I think is exceptionally well-chosen; the musicians are fantastic. He performed songs from all his albums. Within half an hour, the area near the stage was packed—there wasn’t a single empty spot left. People sang along, applauded, and danced. It was a magical experience. I left having bought his latest album, as it had just been released-EDGE OF THE EARTH.
This is a full-length album that was released in June 2025 ISHKODE RECORDS.For this album, in March 2026, the artist received two prestigious awards -JUNO AWARDS -in the categories “Alternative Artist of the Year” and “Contemporary Indigenous Artist or Group of the Year”.
Some of the first artists who were signed to a label ISHKODE RECORDS ,created by First Nations women to promote authentic Canadian music
The album’s title serves as a metaphor for a crossroads in life—a step into the complete unknown. While creating the album, the musician had to make difficult decisions and venture into the unknown. I wish him continued success and a steady, unhurried pace—free from pressure, and full of enjoyment. I see Canadian music transcending boundaries and embracing innovation. It is a pleasure to hear such talented artists, and I truly hope their work marks a new milestone in the evolution of our multifaceted Canadian culture.
After all, we are a multicultural society, and this diversity is both our heritage and our future. May the voices of Indigenous peoples ring out alongside others—openly, diversely, and far and wide. Wish you best luck,AYSANABEE!
Spring, which we’ve been waiting for so long this year, has finally arrived. Temperatures jumped from 10°C to 30°C. What’s next? Nature isn’t waiting; it stood patiently by while the temperatures were low, frosts, and snow were falling, and now everything is slowly starting to turn green and bloom.
This season coincided with the traditional spring cycle of musical gatherings in Toronto Consort.
Now is the month of Maying.
Yes,”Now is the month of Maying” is a famous 1595 English Renaissance madrigal by Thomas Morley,
celebrating spring and traditional May Day festivities and everyone sitting in the Toronto Consort’s hall on May 16, 2026, witnessed this.
“The Numinous Voice” is a thematic tagline and conceptual framework used by the Toronto Consort to highlight the deep, spiritually moving, and transformative power of early vocal music. This guiding theme is heavily reflected in their recent programming, connecting historical works directly to emotional and sacred listener experiences:
The concept anchored their recent spring season finale concert, Now is the month of Maying. Held on May 16 at Jeanne Lamon Hall, it featured world-renowned British tenor Charles Daniels and celebrated the 400th anniversary of English Renaissance composer John Dowland.In this excerpt from the concert, he performs the lead role.
“The Numinous Voice” emphasizes the raw, ethereal qualities of late Medieval, Renaissance, and early Baroque repertoire. The ensemble pairs these haunting vocal textures with period-accurate instruments—such as lutes, recorders, and viols—to recreate acoustic environments that feel sacred or transcendent to modern ears.
In early music performance and programming—particularly within the ethos of the Toronto Consort—the concept of “cycles” operates on three distinct, interconnected levels. These
structures bridge historical context, musical composition, and the “Numinous Voice” theme.
Historically, early music was not performed as an abstract concert commodity; it was written to mark specific times of the year. The Toronto Consort models its programming around these traditional, natural loops.
The Dark/Winter Cycle: This focuses on introspection, sacred architecture, and lighting candles to get through cold months. Examples include their A Spotless Rose – 1200 Years of Carols for New Year’s concert or Gesualdo Passione, which align with the winter solstice, Advent, or Lent. The Spring/Renewal Cycle: This celebrates the return of light and fertility. Their season finale, Now is the month of Maying, acts as a joyous, celebratory secular ritual that signals rebirth. It captures the historical shift away from winter’s heavy “melancholia” toward Renaissance courtly festivities.
Thematic and Compositional Cycles Musically, a “cycle” refers to a group of songs or instrumental pieces designed by a composer to be performed together as a unified whole, often expanding on a singular emotional motif.
The concert honoring John Dowland heavily utilizes this. Dowland famously composed pavanes and lute songs in tightly linked thematic loops—such as his iconic Lachrimae (Seven Tears), which explores seven different facets of passionate grief and melancholia.
Under General and Artistic Director Daniel Taylor, the ensemble uses these cycles to create a sense of transcendence and ritual.Early music notation often grants performance freedom. By cycling through raw vocal textures and period instruments, the ensemble triggers a state of psychological “flow”. The cyclical nature of the music acts like a secular rite, allowing modern audiences to escape the linear passage of time and tap into a shared, timeless human emotion.
The Toronto Consort utilizes a rare working collection of more than 100 accurate historical replicas of medieval, Renaissance, and early Baroque instruments. Many of these instruments are hand-crafted by the ensemble members themselves to capture the precise textures needed for their “Numinous Voice” programming. Their specific instrumentation spans several distinct historical families: Plucked Strings and Basso Continuo These instruments provide the rhythmic framework and harmonic foundation for Renaissance courtly music and Dowland’s intimate compositions:
Lute: The foundational, pear-shaped string instrument central to Renaissance music and John Dowland’s solo works.
Theorbo: An elongated, large bass lute with extended bass strings, used extensively to conduct and anchor the bassline (basso continuo).
Cittern & Bandora: Wire-strung instruments common in English consort music that add a bright, ringing texture.
Harpsichord & Organetto: Period keyboards used to flesh out the harmonic architecture in sacred and chamber settings.
Bowed Strings
Rather than using modern violins, the ensemble relies heavily on families of strings that feature a warmer, more resonant sound with less string tension:
Viols (Viola da Gamba): Fretted, bowed instruments held between the legs, ranging from treble to bass sizes to form a complete “viol consort”.
Vielle & Rebec: Early medieval ancestors of the violin, producing an earthy, rustic tone.
Early Woodwinds and Winds
To mirror the outdoor festival energies of pieces like Now is the month of Maying, the wind section features highly specific, buzzy, or breathy period instruments:
Recorders & Flutes: Played in varied sizes (soprano down to bass) to achieve pure, vibrato-free wind harmonies.
Shawm & Dulcian: Double-reed ancestors of the oboe and bassoon, known for their powerful, reedy projection.
Crumhorn & Rauschpfeife: Capped-reed instruments that produce a distinctively buzzy, historic outdoor festival sound
Early Brass
For grander German Baroque or Venetian-style arrangements, the ensemble integrates distinctively dark and malleable brass:
Sackbut: The direct Renaissance predecessor to the modern trombone, featuring thinner walls that allow for a mellower, blendable tone.
Cornetto: A curved wood instrument wrapped in leather with a finger-hole system and a small brass mouthpiece, celebrated for its unique ability to perfectly mimic the human voice
The final chords have faded and the spring season has come to an end. We eagerly await the upcoming series of Christmas concerts……..
……I stepped outside and breathed in the freshness of the coming spring. How seamlessly this year the end of the hymn-making combined with the vibrant arrival of a vibrant spring and warmth. Coincidence?
Spring has been a bit of a disappointment for us this year. But at the end, after weeks of prolonged rain, we’re entering the season of gorgeous blossoms. This is when everything in the city blooms, blossoms, and is awash with brightness and fragrance within a week. Petals from blossoming trees fall onto the road, and we all feel like spring, meaning the sun is present in our region longer and more often. This is a joy.
Although the entire collection consists of different variations of flower bouquets, I added my love for spring flowers and the light of spring’s radiance to them.
This celebration of blossoming and beauty has been gathered in my imagination and symbolizes a family tree—a flourishing, diverse, deep, and strong family tree of life. It was this idea that ignited me at the beginning of spring and gave me the realization that we are the continuation of our lineage, rooted deep in the earth and reaching upward, acquiring a branching crown of life through love and faith. All that holds us together is our faith and our roots. That’s why this work is especially dear to me. It is made in the Petrykivka style, a traditional Ukrainian folk art style in which I have been creating for over 15 years. Incredible.
Such a long time, and yet I, like a little person, feel like an apprentice in this art form.Like just started)).
All these works are for sale and you can buy them. I have specially reduced the prices so that you receive them with a certificate of authenticity.
Or do you just collect art work with your eyes? Have a wonderful spring mood.
On the eve of the great spring holiday of Easter, I congratulate you and your families on this important occasion. I wish you purity of heart, spiritual balance, warmth and happiness for your families, and a good mood. May the spirit of Easter renew your homes, cleanse them of all that is dark, dirty, and sad, and give you strength and spiritual richness. At this time, we should all reflect on the eternal, looking at our feet. Where are we going, with whom are we going, and what are we carrying? As always, I am working on my paintings and expanding the circle of people familiar with my work, overcoming all the local traditional difficulties we all face in life, and breathing with optimism that everything changes, as do I and my mood. Spring has struck me like a willow branch, painfully and sharply. She tries to change my plans, making her own. For example, I didn’t make it through the jury competition for several new major festivals in Toronto. And although I believed I would make it, failure hit me hard. I know there’s interest in me and there will be fall sessions to get to know me, but all this must be endured. However, my painting was selected for the 50th anniversary celebration of our Etobicoke Civic Centre, and I’m happy to be among Etobicoke’s best artists in a gallery in our district. I love our unique Etobicoke with its luxurious parks, squares, main streets, and shopping centers.
This painting is on display at an exhibition celebrating Etobicoke’s Civic Centre 50th anniversary.
With the morning birdsong, with life among nature thanks to the connections through most of the parks along the rivers. Coyotes, deer, birds, raccoons, foxes, and rabbits—everything comes and lives nearby. And high-rise skyscrapers are being built nearby.
This is why we value our region. Yesterday, as an April Fool’s joke, the news outlets reported that starting this summer, clean air would be sold in downtown Toronto at a high price, and as a new initiative—in bags and at a discount. Of course, this promotion is for us, but in Etobicoke, damn it, our air is clean. Although we’ve had significant air pollution in recent years, too. But I think raising gas prices will significantly reduce the number of cars on the streets and clean up the air. I hope so. Looking ahead, I’d like to believe that many interesting projects await me. After all, I’ll tell you a secret, I’m once again moving away from traditional Ukrainian folklore toward creating large, fragmented paintings on canvas. Last winter, I wanted to create structural, 3D paintings, but after creating one, I realized it wasn’t popular, wasn’t appreciated, and wasn’t accepted by the public. So, I’ve returned to 2017, when I was creating large paintings. If I can and the weather cooperates, I’ll certainly do it in oils. Although, using mixed media is better. You see, living conditions, terrain, and weather all influence the choice of what and how to paint.
You know, I’m a very open and sunny person. But I’ve noticed that when I express myself in this way, others don’t always appreciate it. It’s the same with my paintings—creating bright, vibrant images doesn’t get me any encouragement. It clashes with the gloomy, rainy, and snowy surroundings. Classicism and overcastness are what’s called for. Walking through the galleries, I noticed that the more abstract, obscure, and washed-out the paintings, the better and more sustained. Apparently, tone sets the mood. The sun is shining more often now, which sets the tone for joy and optimism.
But every year, after a difficult and challenging winter, we clean our homes, tidy our houses, dust, throw away old clothes, and renew the soil around the trees in our gardens to make way for the new. And that’s why Easter is so dear and important to us. Especially to me. Happy upcoming holidays to all of you and your families.
Today I’m celebrating a small anniversary. It’s not exactly important or interesting to you, but for me, it’s a special date. No, it’s not the birth of a new child or a happy life in a married family.
This isn’t the date after some surgery and the beginning of a new life, nor is it Valentine’s Day. It’s not moving to another country or buying a new house. Although, if you take all of these factors and mix them up and overload them, they all influenced the date I’m talking about today. Back in 2016, after I completely decided to step away from filmmaking on a film crew and go out on my own and return to professional art education, I chose several directions for myself. One of them was classical landscapes. The second, very expanded and popular, was abstractionism. I’ve explored many styles in this field and love creating my own works.
But today we’ll talk about the third—my favorite. This direction is decorative art and folklore.
It’s as easy as always—I sat down, browsed the styles I liked online, tried them, studied them, practiced, and off I went… Isn’t that right? Back in 2016, I couldn’t have imagined that I would feel so comfortable and happy in this field. I couldn’t have imagined that there would be years when I would be captivated by this movement and creatively empowered.
Exactly 10 years ago, I began painting Petrykivka, a traditional Ukrainian style called Petrykivka. Over the course of 10 long years, I’ve created over 80 works in this style. This included bold ideas, a search for my own direction, and studying the works of famous Petrykivka artisans. In 10 years, I didn’t expect such a boom in the popularity of this art form and the multitude of master classes and drawing courses in this style. Perhaps it all stems from the fact that, while studying this art form, I constantly want to improve myself. Even now, when much time has passed and I return to my first works, I find that they can be improved, and I want to do so. But that’s the beauty and originality of them: they are magnificent in their original form, not in their perfection.
If we take the first year, 2016 in particular—it was a special year. And it’s special precisely because I didn’t create anything more beautiful or magnificent than that year. Imagine how painstakingly I worked on each image. And from that year until 2018, I worked exclusively with oil paints. Acrylic was a cheap material for me. I neglected it. Only after 2018 did I begin painting with acrylics, and only acrylics, due to health issues and the fact that I didn’t have a separate, air-conditioned, and warm space where I could paint with oils.
I still want to go back. There’s nothing better than painting with oil paints. It’s the perfection of artistic experimentation. So, back in 2016, the first Petrykivkas were 11 x 14 inches, and there were several of them. Two of them immediately flew to Europe that year and are now in collections there. And the rest—you can see them in the video at the link.
This small anniversary is a celebration of creativity and love. It is patience and creativity. It is a splash of color and the realization of ideas. It is a small victory.
