November 4, 2019

They are just words to us, but in my case they are becoming brushstrokes. A poem becomes a painting, a painting becomes a poem. Conversations with AI is a collaboration, creation of complex story about landscape of emotions. 

December 28, 2018

https://janolapin.threadless.com/ 

July 1, 2018

I am a part of group exhibition in Toronto 3 July till 17 July where I will be presenting my mixed media work - prints of acrylic from Imaginarium series. Come to Art Square gallery during these two weeks to see some of these works.

May 4, 2017

В Воспоминаниях моих нет снега и дождя.
Сухая пыль и долгая дорога.
B bвоспоминаниях моих есть голос жизни без тебя,
И отголоски долгого затишья.

В воспоминих есть грязь и кровь, и вопли и проклятья оправданий. 
В воспоминаниях клубком свернулась вся душа без сил и без дых...

May 3, 2017

I think chaos is a beginning of self awareness,when your senses are charged with superpowers and yet you stay still. 

May 3, 2017

When she dreams something comes up and makes no sence. 

It fillls the space with its bogus smell and sound. she still dreams and sees someone she knows, but this persons face turns like ash and faceless when she tries to talk to her. She sees people that seem familiar,...

May 3, 2017

Ответ дал мне
В далекую дорогу
За основанием моим,
эхом отдаленных сказок,
эхом крика.
Без смысла, без переговоров.
Ответ мне дал в конце прошедшей бездны
От дальней песни,
от неизбежности.
Ответ тебе и мне,
И всему миру.
В абсурдной сказке чепухи.
И осознания того, что мы
В начале...

May 3, 2017

The sound breaks the wave

Of my reflection.

It shuts reflexes, habits and desire.

The sound of the answer to myself.

The sound which becomes the light

In 

My imagination.

It is still no matter, no state 

Of balanced gravity.

It is a shimmering vibration 

Of naked senses.

May 2, 2017



When pain is just a word -
It is a sound.
But senseless .
But there is shiver in the bones,
Chaotic scream,
Return to ash,
Abrupt decision.
Turn back, face time.
Face Yourself.
It is a mirror of reflection.
Unsure growth of destruction
Of mind piece by piece
In time.
When space is...

May 1, 2017

Fine line drawn in empty space,
looking for directions to spread.
No names just an empty space,
No feeling evolved, just rain washing off...
My virtual world breaks the space in my head,
No hope, no future ,no matter.
The vacuum absorbed the rest of myself,
No mass, no prese...

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