Marianna Grygorieva is an abstract artist whose creative journey began with an intuitive impulse in 2019. For her, painting is not just a process, but a deep meditation where she acts only as a conductor of energy, and the paints themselves dictate the course of the work. In this interview, Marianna shares her views on the unique dialogue with oil paint, reveals how she achieves a meditative state, why her abstractions become a "mirror" for viewers, and how art helps one return to themselves in the modern world
Marianna, you felt a passion for art since childhood, but you only picked up a brush in 2019. What was the decisive impulse that forced you to turn a long-standing love into a calling?
Perhaps the moment came when the inner feeling became stronger than logic. I lived next to art for many years, but I was somehow afraid to take the first step. In 2019, I felt that I no longer wanted to postpone my true self. It was very intuitive: one evening I just picked up a brush, opened the paints — and the flow began. It was as if the paints I remembered from childhood called me to return.
You call the process of painting a "meditation of the soul" and an "unrestrained flow of energy." How exactly do you achieve this meditative state, and what is most important for you in the process of creating each new painting?
For me, meditation begins the moment I touch the paint. I don’t set myself tasks or plans. I just allow myself to be in silence — even if there is noise around. The most important thing in the process is to turn off the mind and feel the energy. Then the hands choose the paints, and the paints lead me themselves; I only observe the birth of the painting.
You don't choose the paints, but the paints choose you, and the brush itself dictates what to paint. How do you feel this intuitive process? As an artist, how do you manage to trust this uncontrollable force?
It feels like an inner impulse, very soft and natural. I look at the palette — and I just know which color should be first. It is impossible to control or explain. It is important to trust this movement, this force that seems to pass through me. When I start to think, everything breaks. When I trust — the painting is born easily.
What role does oil play in your work, and why did you choose this particular material to express your abstractions? Are its scent and texture an integral part of your inspiration?
Oil for me is a living material. I like its texture, depth, the possibility to mix layers, and create emotional transitions. And yes, the smell of oil paints is a separate story. It takes me back to my childhood when I wasn’t painting yet, but was already fascinated by art. This smell is like a bridge between who I was and who I have become.
What, in your opinion, makes your abstract paintings unique and able to evoke such personal and individual emotions and interpretations in viewers?
It seems to me that the very absence of a specific plot opens the door to human imagination. I don’t impose a story — I give an emotion, I give space. And the viewer automatically brings something of their own into the painting. Perhaps that is why my works become a mirror of the inner world of everyone who looks at them.
What are the most unexpected or profound comments about your paintings you have heard from viewers that prove your art finds "its own" key to a person's heart?
What impresses me the most is when people say that in the paintings they find memories, past feelings, or answers to difficult questions. Once a woman said that my work helped her feel calm for the first time in a long time. This is the highest reward — to know that art can be therapy.
Tell us about your collection of 50 paintings. Are there any works among them that have special significance for you or symbolize a turning point in your work?
Yes, there are several paintings that I call “pivotal.” They were born in moments of strong internal changes. One of them is the first work I created at night when I couldn’t sleep. It was a state of absolute freedom. That’s when I felt that this was my path.
How do you, as an abstract artist, define the moment a painting is finished if the drawing is born from a flow of energy and "doesn't have a clear idea"?
This feeling is similar to how a breath ends. A moment of silence simply comes when the canvas no longer asks anything from you. If I add a brushstroke — and feel that I’ve “overdone it,” I take a step back. The painting itself tells you when enough is enough.
For you, art is a deeply personal self-expression. How do you find a balance between this personal flow and the universal accessibility of your art to the general public?
I don’t try to make art understandable — I try to be honest. And perhaps it is this honesty that becomes universal. When a work is born from a deep internal state, it resonates with people, regardless of their experience.
How do you deal with creative challenges and where do you find the motivation to continue creating when the process is so intense and dependent on an internal state?
I don’t fight them. If the flow doesn’t come, I don’t force myself to sit down at the canvas. It is important for me to be in harmony with my state. Motivation returns when there is an internal need to touch the paints again. And it always returns.
What goals or dreams do you set for yourself as an artist in the coming years? Are you planning a first solo exhibition or, perhaps, exploring new directions in painting?
I dream of a first solo exhibition — not for the sake of status, but for the opportunity to meet the viewer face to face. I also want to explore new techniques and perhaps combine oil with other materials. I am open to experiments.
What role do you think abstract art plays in the modern world, oversaturated with information, and why do people need such a "dialogue" with a painting?
Today we are overloaded with words, facts, and news. Abstraction provides an opportunity to stop and return to oneself. It is a language of emotions, not logic. People need a dialogue that takes place in silence — and that is exactly what abstract art provides.
What is the most important advice you would give to an adult who, like you once, feels a long-standing passion for painting, but is afraid to find their style and start creating?
Bravely pick up the brush. Don’t think about style, technique, or result. Just allow yourself to be honest with yourself. Art is not about creating the perfect — it’s about finally allowing yourself to create. Start with one brushstroke — and it will lead you further.
