Inter Grace is a project about merging with the external environment. While searching for a new home, an emigrant assimilates into a new society, gradually adopting its inherent characteristics. Through a collage with motifs of the urban landscape, the author reflects on how this process occurs physically, as it is possible in a new country to not only shape a different identity but also alter the body. Attempting to view one’s own body through the prism of another culture — whether by mimicking its standards or defending one’s own beliefs — can significantly change an emigrant’s self-positioning and self-perception. A private photo, not intended for prying eyes yet displayed on the street, underscores the vulnerability during such metamorphoses and openly demonstrates the process of merging the body with the environment. The artist notes: "As a marker of the environment, I chose the Genex Tower, the iconic building of Belgrade. It was one of the first structures I noticed when I first entered the city in a taxi from the airport. Now I live nearby, and I see its lights from my window every evening. The brutalist architecture and the socialist-style buildings ('panel'ki') are the visual features of Belgrade through which my sense of home began to form."

The Square of Rebirth consists of 12 QR codes, each leading to a film about one of the artists from the "Go to The Next Level" exhibition. These codes offer viewers a glimpse into the world of each artist, allowing them to compare what they observe with their own inner perceptions and reflections.

Viewers are invited to contemplate Carl Jung's theory of the "squared circle," where he outlines the fundamental qualities of the psyche: sensation, thinking, feeling, and intuition. The harmonization of these aspects — symbolized by the four corners of a square within a circle — is often reflected in culture. For example, the renowned "Vitruvian Man" by Leonardo da Vinci displays a clear four-sided orientation. Additionally, Friedrich Nietzsche wrote, "More honestly and purely speaks the healthy body, perfect and well-balanced." Aristotle expressed similar thoughts in his works, stating, "A morally good person is four-cornered." Dante Alighieri echoed this concept in his "Divine Comedy," referring to a person as a "good cube." Reflections of this theory can also be seen in various religious rituals and Christian iconography.

The 'Rebirth Square' is an exploration of the immigrant's journey as they transition into a new life, particularly focusing on their path to professional realization in a new country. The subjects of this exploration — the artists featured in the "Go to The Next Level" exhibition — serve as personalized portraits of immigrants who have successfully rebuilt and transformed themselves in a new place and in a new role.

The project explores the activation of psychological defenses in response to the acute challenges of immigration during the first months of relocation, expressed through visual representation. During this period, individuals often face intense feelings of powerlessness and despair, leading them to "shield" themselves from these emotions by any means available.

The installation features a chainmail constructed from shattered glass bottles. These bottles, consumed as a form of therapy and support during the relocation, symbolize the coping mechanisms employed in daily challenges.

The piece serves as a reflection — a unique artistic acknowledgment of several months of intense adaptation.

The work is part of the "Fragments of Navigation" project, initiated in Belgrade.

In my artistic practice, I often explore the realm of language and the fundamental concept of semiotics — the sign, which serves as a tool for understanding, constructing, and deconstructing the semiotic landscape of our surrounding reality.

The foundation of my current project revolves around the concept of escapism — the replacement of real relationships with imaginary worlds. This persistent longing for an illusory reality is repeatedly projected onto the real world, creating a cycle that ultimately leads nowhere.

By working with the poetic concept of the glitch — the disruption of a logical sequence — I explore the idea of broken navigation, revealing it as a symptom of our constant desire for transcendence and our futile, yet no less compelling, attempts to escape reality.

The deconstruction of navigational signs serves as a metaphorical reflection of the fragile and unstable nature of societal rules. It exposes the fragmented narratives and paths we create — shells for alternative realities that we perceive as potential means of escape.

Emigrants experience a range of emotions and changes, including the challenges of transitioning to a new place, adapting to new surroundings, and undergoing both external and internal transformations. My project explores the emotional journey of moving from the unreal to the real, using the imagery of dreams and the metaphor of sleep and wakefulness cycles.

The unreal is portrayed as a blend of memories, experiences, fragments of the past, and dreams. In contrast, the real encompasses the feelings we experience when interacting with our environment. We perceive reality through our engagement with objects and events in the physical world, which is shaped by our interpretations of them.

Reality is no longer what we once believed it to be. At times, it resembles a dream, with events becoming tangled and turning into a collection of vivid moments within our memory and consciousness. The cyclical states of sleep and wakefulness mirror the cyclical relationship between the unreal and the real.

Dreams are filled with memories, experiences, sensations, and backgrounds drawn from our lives. They pass through the prism of perception, enriched by vivid fantasies. Dreams are intimately connected with reality; they complement it, constructed from fragments of events and sensations.

By engaging with the art object, one can become aware of the passage of time and one's presence in the moment, sensing the ability to influence events while simultaneously observing them. What unfolds is a constant flow of change and movement, punctuated by moments of slowing down and reflection. By observing dreams, we distinguish reality from fiction. Thus, through the lens of "dreams", we gain insight into reality. One cannot exist without the other; they complement each other.

"My Family and I Are Portrayed Here" is a work that unites the ephemeral nature of time with the deep connections between the past and present. The project represents a cycle of interconnected events that converge at a single point, rather than following a linear progression. It serves as a reminder that the events of our lives share a common axis.

The work, approximately 1.5 meters in diameter, features repetitive movement depicted on the floor. Conceptually, it was shaped not only by the original idea but also by a chain of coincidences and mistakes that contributed to its current form. The work is constructed from both physical and symbolic layers: the base layer is a cyanotype that has been washed away by rain. Above it are the footprints of the artist and her son, who wander cyclically along the trajectory they created, symbolizing their intertwined lives. A piece of rope serves as a focal point, binding all the layers together and maintaining balance within the composition.

Exposed to the footsteps of the public, the work will gradually transform and eventually disappear, much like our lives and experiences mutate and fade from memory.

"My Family and I Are Portrayed Here" is a meditation on time, memory, and the connection between generations. The artist, a daughter of immigrants, reflects on the legacy passed down by her ancestors and the legacy she, in turn, bequeaths to her own children, who now live as new immigrants.

In the modern world, emigration is becoming increasingly common.

For many, moving to another country involves not only a change of residence but also the need to adapt to new living conditions, transform their mindset, and completely reappraise their values in an unfamiliar environment.

In such a dynamic and uncertain time, artists face significant challenges in adapting, self-identifying, and finding their place in a new society.

Immigrant artists must rethink their creative approach, discover new ways to express their art, and seek alternative materials to replace those they were once familiar with.

My project explores the process of rebuilding oneself in a new reality — literally reconnecting with one's inner self, searching for accessible forms of expression, and redefining one's visual language in the context of new circumstances.

While in Serbia, I discovered a fascinating ability within myself: speaking three languages simultaneously. This was a curious adaptation to the new language, where gaps in my knowledge were filled with words from my native language and English. I noticed that I began altering the stress in Russian words or adding the suffix -tsa, more common in Serbian speech. This made me feel that Serbs would immediately understand me better and that I would assimilate faster. This experience led to the creation of my own personal language.

When I encountered a floor tile in the yard with a pattern resembling an elegant, ornate letter or hieroglyph, I became intrigued. For my project, I decided to use this "letter" to develop my own alphabet, which became the first of many, setting the tone for the rest.

Using these letters, I wrote the word "Jenny" — my name.

I truly wanted to "fit in" in Belgrade, and I achieved it LITERALLY, albeit through a created language.

"It seems so easy for you there! The sea is close, the sun, fresh fruits, and euros!"

Often, one can hear that migrants are lucky. They are lucky to live in a country where there is no winter, where salaries are in euros, ripe fruits are available year-round, and the sea is as close as a weekend getaway. Europe is within arm's reach, with a 50 euro ticket. It feels like a year-long vacation. It all sounds so appealing.

But there's another side to the story. No money for rent and food, surviving on an income six times lower, and now paying for housing that used to be free.

And when your shoes wear out, you don't buy new ones; instead, you head to the tailor with them and your torn dress, which has seen many seasons.
And the job hunt consumes so much time and energy that thoughts of cooking for a luckier migrant or looking after their children start creeping in.

And sometimes, you're torn between staying or returning.

And your thoughts of muscled Serbian men and women constantly drift towards reflections on what "homeland"
really means. Where is it? Where will it be? Is it here or somewhere else? It's a choice you'll have to make. Or perhaps, it’s time to return home. But where is that home?

And your reputation, status, and achievements remain somewhere back there, while here, you grapple with feelings of guilt and shame for everything.

And then there's the question: Is who I am now what I wanted for myself? Who or what led me to this point? Is my current situation a result of my actions or merely a consequence of circumstances?

And even as an adult, you still need someone mature.

And every day, as you wake up, you question whether you're doing everything right. And there's no clear answer.

Well, yes, there it is, +30°C at the end of September...

The textile art object "The Man Who Doesn’t Exist" explores the theme of mass immersion in digital reality. Smartphones have become an extension of our hands, and headphones are perpetually in our ears. We are losing the ability to truly see and feel, as we have grown accustomed to experiencing the world through our phone cameras.

We delve into virtual spaces to escape the reality that surrounds us, creating a virtual life and reality that we believe we can control. This escape could be viewed as a form of “Transition to the Next Level.” However, this next level is not necessarily better. In the realm of digital reality, one can easily dissolve. Humanity has not yet had sufficient time to fully understand how the World Wide Web affects our consciousness, relationships, work, and overall lives.

This virtual world is unreliable, artificial, and “plastic,” lacking genuine substance. It consists of a constant news stream, a mix of fake and true information, visual noise from bright images, intrusive advertisements, false expertise, manipulation, and imposed values.

How can we navigate this complex new world without losing ourselves?

"Interpersonal boundaries are the rules and limitations we establish in our relationships," as Google defines them. When these boundaries are violated, conflicts inevitably arise, either remaining internal or manifesting externally.

So, how can we cultivate harmony in our relationships and sustain it over time? Why is it so challenging for someone in conflict to remember their positive feelings toward their conversational partner — such as love and appreciation — while also acknowledging negative emotions like anger and irritation, which are equally important for self-preservation and personal interests?

Nature, however, has already addressed this issue. It vividly demonstrates how seemingly incompatible elements can come together to create harmony. Consider the combination of sweet strawberries with salty cheese and mold, or ice cream on a hot day. Think of the contrasts between man and woman, soft and hard, Muslims and Christians in one family, or black lines on a blank sheet.

In this work, lines take on a life of their own; they exhibit strength, character, shape, and angularity. Some collide with ample "air," while others encounter its absence. Observing this, we can see that assembling diverse elements into a cohesive, harmonious, deep, and beautiful whole is indeed possible!

A new country, a new city, a new home, a new method of photography, new habits, a new way of consuming food — all of these signify a transition to a new level of perception.

What do you see in the photograph? It's food, but seen from the perspective of the bottom of a plate. A natural lunch now looks completely different.

The series of works titled "Lunch with a Scanner" offers a novel perspective on food: from the bottom of the plate. Before each meal, the food was scanned. An inverted plate was placed on the scanner, and the image was viewed on the monitor. Often, the result is not as one would expect. The three-dimensional image becomes two-dimensional, and the depth of field is minimized. What was once voluminous appears flat.

This approach to presenting a dish invites you to experience lunch in a new way, stimulates your imagination, and prompts the question: "How does the bottom of my plate see my lunch?"

The composition "Reconstruction" presents the city in a surreal manner, illustrating how reality is refracted through the observer's perception and enriched with personal associations. The city's people contribute to its character with their impressions, routes, and graffiti on walls, which all come together to create a new, composite picture. This results in a shift to a new level of reality perception, where a foreign city becomes familiar and intimate. We find ourselves walking to a favorite café for a cup of coffee, following a well-trodden path.

This perception of the city is highly individual, rooted in subjective feelings, making it seem to float in the air, ungrounded. Sometimes, viewers may see their own reflection within this new reality—a reflection that might appear as writing on a wall, an answer to an inner question, a casual yet timely encounter, or a sudden coincidence where everything falls into place effortlessly.

The composition also reflects my personal journey of getting to know Belgrade and falling in love with it. In my art, I have always felt a special tenderness for urban surfaces marked by time, graffiti, and urban forms. Upon arriving in Belgrade, I was delighted to find my favorite themes, textures, and objects surrounding me. This city has become my place of power, a boundless source of inspiration for my creative work.