RYZNVA / @ryznva X KURO / @obeythatdog

tipping point

We no longer cling to control.

For too long, we tried to manage the chaos within, to give it shape, to tame it, as if it were meant to obey. But art is not a prisoner. It either breaks free or dies.

We do not create to explain. We create because there is too much inside to stay silent. Every stroke, every detail, every scrap of paper is a conversation we have with the void, and it answers us with unfamiliar eyes. We know you see something different from what we see. And that is the whole point.

Between the deliberate and the spontaneous, between our inner chaos and your interpretation — there is a point of no return.

Now it is no longer just ours. Now it speaks to you too.


Kuro: What does the tipping point mean to you in art?
Ryznva: For me, the tipping point in art is the moment when you completely dissolve into the process. An inexplicable shift happens within, and you find yourself in a different reality. It’s a step beyond the familiar, a decision to create something radically new. After that, you can no longer return to your previous perception of what you used to create.
Do you feel that your works are a dialogue with something greater than yourself?
Yes, of course. This is a dialogue with the subconscious and something higher. The answers come on their own.
For you, is chaos destruction or creation? When you create, do you let go or try to hold on?
In the past, I tried to hold on to all my works. They didn’t come easily to me — the creative process could drag on for a very long time, from a couple of weeks to several months. That was my undoing.

Now, much has changed, and I let go of my art — but only with a clear mind. I no longer strive for total control, which used to prolong the process. No. Now, my art is my freedom, and the chaos on the canvases is my meditation, my creation, my liberation.
What state gives rise to your strongest works? Is it an impulse, an insight, pain, or something else?
When you’re fully immersed and stop thinking, your instincts take over. That’s when the strongest work emerges.
Do you feel vulnerable when sharing your work? Or does it make you feel stronger?
Every piece of work makes me vulnerable to the viewer: I show my feelings, thoughts, and emotions, but that doesn’t make me any weaker. I believe my strength lies in sincerity. Art that has nothing behind it is empty.
Is there a line in art you wouldn't cross?
For me, the limit in art is hackwork for profit. If a person is not willing to develop their imagination and skill but seeks easy paths, their work loses its soul. Of course, anyone can create, but to become a true artist, one must study, grow, and understand the fundamentals more deeply. If it's difficult — start with simple things, but don’t try to artificially create something devoid of meaning and emotion.
RYZNVA / @ryznva X KURO / @obeythatdog
TIPPING POINT
Kuro: Were there times in your creative journey when you deliberately chose to let go of a project, thought, or idea, knowing it was better to move on because they had run their course?
Ryznva: Certainly, there have been such moments. Sometimes you create something 'for the drawer', sometimes you believe in a grand idea, but it never takes off — and then you have to let it go. That’s a natural part of the creative process. Right now, I’m going through a phase where I want to breathe new life into something old — and perhaps something interesting will come of it.

In any case, every experience matters. Life changes, and creativity changes with it — it’s influenced by everything: joy, stress, inspiration, disappointment. The most important thing is to keep creating.
How do you know that your work is 'alive', that it seems to 'breathe'?
My goal is to create works that evoke emotions in the viewer. For me, the creative process itself is about transferring my feelings and experiences onto the canvas — whether physical or digital. A piece comes to life when every stroke is infused with emotion, not just copied.

I know a work is 'alive' when the composition emerges almost on its own, when the story seems to paint itself effortlessly, and I’m merely guiding my fantasies, helping them take shape. It’s like a meditative state, where I’m completely immersed in the process.
Do Not Resuscitate
Some things are better left dead. Art either breathes on its own or rots under layers of pretension and varnish. There’s no point in giving it artificial respiration — if it couldn’t survive, so be it. It’s either a living organism or an empty shell.

We’re not doctors, we’re not rescuers, we don’t drag things back from oblivion by the hair. We let die what begs for death. Because only then does it remain true.

1/1 on objkt.com →
How do you feel when viewers interpret your works differently than you? Does it matter to you, or do you let it go as part of the process? Does it scare or inspire you?
This art isn’t for everyone, and that’s precisely what makes it special. I imagine not everyone gets it or enjoys it—and that’s fine, it doesn’t bother me at all. But if it made you feel something, then it was all worth it.
Vandal Proof
You can’t destroy what’s already woven from chaos. This isn’t a temple or a storefront, nor a perfect picture for sale. These are images, paint, noise, and shreds of ideas torn out with flesh. Break it, smear it, set it on fire — it will only grow stronger. True chaos doesn’t fear destruction. It is destruction.

1/1 on objkt.com →
What does 'letting go of control' mean to you in creativity? Were there moments when you felt like art was literally bursting out of you, and you couldn’t stop it?
Oh yes! It happened when I finally found myself — or rather, my style, if I can put it that way. In just a few months, I created around 20 new works that practically erupted from me. It was incredible — an inexplicable surge of energy! And so thrilling that I managed to bring all my thoughts to life instead of leaving them as mere ideas.
What emotions or experiences do you most often 'release' through your work? What are the strongest emotions and feelings that build up inside you before they find liberation through art?
This could probably be called a transitional moment in life. When you experience a powerful emotion but can’t fully process it, it claws at you from within. Only when you manage to express it do you move to a new level. Creating a new piece of art makes you realize what exactly happened. It’s like a visit to a psychologist: through art, you process pivotal events in your life.

I can recall two artworks that became such transitional moments for me: Icon of Healing and Rebirth. The first, Icon of Healing, tells the story of an angel who endured countless hardships, grief, and stress. Having survived them, they healed and began helping others avoid the same mistakes they once made. The second piece, Rebirth, is about strength, self-discovery, and faith.
What is the most vulnerable part of the creative process for you? Have there been moments when you felt you were 'baring' too much in your art?
In my art, there are two main directions: portraits and full-body figures of girls. When it comes to portraits, they are emotional outbursts — quick, active, energetic, and each one is unique.

As for the works with full-body figures, these are stories: deliberate, sincere, and all of them are about me. No joke — through my art, I share my innermost experiences with the viewer. I open up and use the imagery to 'converse' with those who engage with it.
Spilled Ink & Open Veins
Creativity isn’t creation, but liberation. It’s not an act of beauty, but of unveiling. Every stroke isn’t a choice, but a necessity — like air in the lungs. If you don’t spill it out, you drown. We don’t draw, don’t write; we tear out from within and leave traces. You’re not seeing art — you’re seeing what’s left of us.

1/1 on objkt.com →
What is the most challenging part for you about being open in your art? Were there moments when you wanted to stop but couldn’t?
As I mentioned earlier, I speak candidly with my audience in every piece I create. Whether it’s sharing a personal experience, offering guidance for the future, or simply uplifting others, I always strive to present myself sincerely to the viewer through the lens of art.
No Safe Words
There’s no safe word here. No ‘Caution, fragile.’ No gentle phrasing. This isn’t a game, not a cozy armchair, not a tender immersion. We don’t ask if you’re ready. We don’t ask if you want to. You either hear it or you don’t. You’ve entered — there’s no way back.

Raw emotions, raw truth, raw pain. Deal with it yourself.

1/1 on objkt.com →
How do you feel when your works take on a life of their own in other people’s minds? Is it freeing or frightening?
It’s inspiring. After all, if you think about it, it’s hard to surprise people with anything these days. But if my image lingers in their consciousness, evoking thoughts and reflections — that’s fantastic. It means I’ve managed to convey an emotion that others have chosen to experience, and that’s the most valuable takeaway.

I’m inherently very picky and meticulous — both about my own art and about the art, or so-called 'art' of others. Maybe that’s professional deformation.

For example, there are two creators whose art stirs strong emotions in me — you and Lisa. What you create is entirely different, utterly dissimilar, yet your art has found the key to my heart. And I can confidently say: your works live in my head.
This Is Not Just Ours Anymore
We no longer keep it to ourselves. We no longer control it. We’ve passed the tipping point. What you see is not us, not our art, not what we created, but what unfolded in your mind.

It’s yours now. And now only you must live with it.

1/1 on objkt.com →