The Story of a Little Man is a book about my childhood in post-Soviet Moscow, which I finished in 2020. It is also the collective name of two-years' work that includes a large series of expressionist drawings (created as illustrations for the book) and several oil paintings depicting childhood unhappiness and constant fear. These works captured my early memories and the terrible loneliness I felt as a little girl being raised in an abusive family, emotionally abandoned by my parents and hated by my maternal grandmother.
The onset of this work was unexpected. In 2017, after seven years living and working in New York, my photography career was finally taking off when I had a sudden emotional meltdown. I didn't see it coming, but the signs were there. For years I had been involved in toxic relationships with my family which caused me to struggle with an anxiety disorder and depression. I would have nightmares about my life in Russia, be terrified of going back there one day, and remember my childhood home as a prison. Nevertheless, I couldn't speak about my past. The society I had grown up in has always supported parents but not children, and not many who survived physical or emotional abuse were ready to tell their stories. Many still feel guilty and ashamed to speak up.
Finally, on April 17th, 2017, my past caught up with me. I couldn't deny it any longer; I couldn't lie to myself that everything was fine when it really wasn't. I left photography, broke up with my family, and started a long and painful healing process. Reflecting on my past, putting in words and images what had haunted me for many years was hard. Yet, for the first time, I felt relief, talking openly about my childhood and adolescence without fear of being judged.
The visual part of the book "The Story of a Little Man" is over a hundred oil pastel illustrations. These images are dark and full of sad symbolism represented by rapid intense marks mostly in black, red, and navy blue that, together with the subject, convey despair and feelings of helplessness and endless anxiety. These are visions from my nightmares and scary stories I heard as a child, unable to cope with them or forget. Many of the drawings are disturbing to look at but can be easily related to by anyone who has gone through a similar traumatic experience. I felt that no matter how hard it would be, I couldn't move on until all of it had been expressed, and nothing left behind.
After years of trying to overcome the painful memories, I finally found an outlet for many unresolved feelings stored for so long inside. I wanted to look carefully into a child's world, drawing attention to the deep feeling of loneliness and the essential need of a little human being to be loved. I hoped to show the fragility of childhood, which parents should cherish and not selfishly exploit. I also wanted to expose the evil of violent family relationships so often hidden behind closed doors, to expose the shame of the societies which cover up the deeds of adults and cannot protect their children. There are many children brought up and hurt the same way, and my work is dedicated to them, too.
Writing the story and working on the drawings and paintings, I felt a strong need to talk about this issue open-heartedly and appeal to viewers’ compassion and awareness.