Margarita Syrocheva

Syrochevart

Imagine staring at a black square painted on a white canvas. What do you notice first? Likely the color, then the shape. And then. . . 

The cracks in the paint, of course. At the first glance, this black square might seem unremarkable, but look beyond its color, its shape, its imperfections and at some point, as you keep looking, you will realize:

it’s a mirror.

I think of this as an epiphany — an instant when art ceases to be merely an object and instead becomes a reflection of the self. The act of looking transforms into an act of introspection. And it is here, in this quiet exchange, that the journey of imagination begins.