Stanislava Romanova

My name is Stanislava Romanova, and I am a symbolist artist.

I was born in the provincial town of Lozova, in the Kharkiv region of Ukraine. I spent most of my conscious life in Odesa, a city I chose with my heart and soul. Unfortunately, because of the war, I had to leave my beloved Odesa in 2026 and move to Georgia.

My story with art began in childhood. I noticed early on that I was drawn to crafts, drawing, and, in general, to bringing my own creative ideas to life. That was why my parents enrolled me in an art school. But at the time, it never grew into anything serious. When it came to higher education, I chose a completely different path — or rather, my parents chose it for me: agriculture. There was a common belief that in an agricultural country, that was where the money was, while being an artist was considered “not serious.” I did not resist. At sixteen, I did not yet fully understand my own desires or realize where I truly wanted to go.

But the older I became, the stronger I felt a strange kind of “hunger” caused by all the creative ideas I was unable to realize. To somehow satisfy it, I painted on the walls of my parents’ home and my dormitory, created surrealist watercolor portraits, and took part in artistic photography projects as a model. Somewhere between painting and modeling, I found a sense of peace for my soul. But it was still something I did not take seriously — simply an interest, a hobby I never considered particularly important.

The beliefs that had prevented me from becoming who I wanted to be began to fall apart after I earned my first money from modeling.

Imagine my happiness: I started making money doing something I loved, I began to travel, and over time, that inner “hunger” faded.

I created nothing for about two or three years.

And then the war began.

My first forced emigration came, and less than a month later, I started painting again. That was when Fuck War was born — the painting with which everything began. It was my political and human statement to the world. My visual response to everything that was happening around me.

Gradually, art became my tool: a way to document events, speak about what was happening, and capture my thoughts and observations.

Since then, the impulse has remained the same, but my artistic tools have continued to expand. Over these years, I have developed my painting skills, learned to work with clay and papier-mâché, and started embroidery. And I know this is far from the end.

I enjoy expanding within this field, experimenting with new materials, and discovering that I can create in many different ways.

I don’t know — perhaps this impulse to create is not unique at all. Many people find themselves in art after difficult turns in life. But I finally did more than simply satisfy that “hunger” — with every fiber of my being, I felt that I had become part of a much larger mechanism: the mechanism of my own destiny.