Mariam Petrosyan. The house in which... (№ 409928)

I'm not ashamed of my early work, but at twenty-two you open your soul too frankly and sometimes do it clumsily. You feel awkward later. And for myself, and for the fact that it is the inept performance that meets with delight. Now I have grown wiser, and so are my paintings. The only fragment that wanders from work to work, preserved for a long time, is a teddy bear, I have not been able to get rid of it, although it is better and better disguised. On the last canvases, it is smeared. He is not visible, but he is there, hiding under a layer of paint. Maybe one day I will be able to do without him, although he has long become something of a scary talisman that provides my paintings with a long life.