As an artist, I find myself constantly exploring traditional crafts and techniques, drawing on my upbringing in post-Soviet Georgia. Growing up in a poor family, I was unable to visit museums or galleries and instead was exposed to the propagandistic public art, massive mosaics, hammered copper reliefs on the streets of my hometown and decorative tapestries that were ubiquitous in Soviet and post-Soviet households.

Inspired by the beauty of colourful mosaics and intimidated by the hammered copper reliefs that adorned buildings and homes, I was struck by the simplicity of Georgian painters like Nikala and frescos of ancient churches. Today, this rich history informs my work as I seek to break free from the narratives and rules imposed by the Soviet era.

Working with natural stones and tapestries allows me to embrace imperfections and the unpredictability of the materials. The tapestries and Mosaics are only continuous series I make. I consider them as one part of my practice, another part is more performative, digital world with videos, collages and performances that lead to them.

My tapestries serve as a commentary on the current world and the forces that shape us. Through deconstructing and rebuilding machine-made Soviet period tapestries, I seek to meditate and heal from traumas that are represented by the sentences that I embroider on them. The process of tearing, burning, and adorning the tapestries and then decorating them as something very special- mirrors the way that Georgian culture and mentality have treated me - leaving me both destroyed and stronger- which is worth celebrating and decorating.

And in mosaics I often use them as a glorification method for victories over things. It often depicts something very beautiful, sentimental, spiritual. It is a sneak peak into my soul that is hiding behind the warrior, destructive, unstoppable persona that  I build around it and which is symbolically linked to the tapestries I make.