Each form created at NÓMADE is born from the memories of my childhood.
Bagels, a piece of chalk, an egg slicer from my mother's kitchen fragments of memory cast in metal, a tribute to a home l can never return to.
The first drop — under the number zero.
Zero, to me, is not just a number or emptiness — it is a beginning.
Its silence is all-encompassing, capable of swallowing everything around it.
In zero, form dissolves — only to be born again.
It is like an egg: a symbol of life, of origin, of the eternal question — what came first?
Eleven years without a home.
Having lost access to my native land, I feel an unrelenting, haunting, crushing longing for home.
An endless desire — I want to go home.
And a heartbreaking thought — I no longer have one.
The war took my home twice.
I lost the place I was born — Donetsk — in 2014.
Kharkiv became my second home, a place that held me for eight years.
In 2022, I lost my home again.
As a quiet tribute to that city, almost everything in NOMADE is created by the hands of people from Kharkiv.
For me, NÓMADE is not just a name.
It is a state of being. A philosophy.
An understanding that you no longer belong to any single point on the map.
To be NÓMADE is to be like the wind — to be everywhere, and nowhere at the same time.
NÓMADE is the freedom that lives in every breath, and the eternal hope of finding a home a hope forever hidden in the heart.