Stellanea — a new star [teaser]
In a current world that favors instant gratification it is easy to feel like you are behind, like everything exceeded you before you even managed to take a breath, like you are not enough — not talented enough, not smart enough, not attractive enough, not rich enough, not doing enough. Especially now, when everywhere you look — augmented bodies. Augmented faces. Augmented personalities. Augmented relationships. A world expanding so fast it forgot to ask if we wanted to come along.
I recently found a masterfully done concept art of a female game character but she looked very seductive, fake, and plastic (don’t get me wrong, being sexual and seductive is a natural and beautiful thing but it needs to have depth, otherwise it is just shallow and empty), and her body and face was chiseled to such provocative structures that I honestly wasn’t surprised (but kind of disgusted) what kind of reactions I found in the comments section.
And somewhere in the middle of all that noise, I started asking myself — what example we set with our art for the current and future generations? What values we try to pass on? What if I have kids — what world would I like to introduce them to? The one that appreciates their uniqueness, or the world that tries to shrink them to fit into a certain image because that is what is impressive, accepted and desired by most?
Another questions I rise in this fast paced, full of distractions, disassociated world with short attention span — what actually makes us human? What separates a human made art from the generated one?
The answer that surfaces in my mind is an ability to slow down and find beauty in naturalness and imperfection. To sense the magic of the present moment and consciously immerse ourselves in it, take it all in even when everything around us is engineered to pull us away from it. It doesn’t mean going overboard in a totally opposite direction and being only soft and delicate. We need emotion, excitement, to stand up for ourselves, express our sexuality, break norms and show something edgy too. But let this all have a meaning, not just dress to impress.
I recently stumbled upon a term “glimmer” (or as I call it “at home feelings”) which is the opposite of a trigger. Glimmers are those little moments in your day, that make you feel joy, happiness, peace, or gratitude. When our nervous systems are dysregulated and overstimulated — these moments feel so fleeting, hard to grasp, like a phantom of something you’ve once known and loved but cannot hold it. How can we make our whole day, weeks, months, years, decades, a lifetime feel like one big glimmer?
These reflections became an idea for a painting. And the painting became a character.
Her name is Stellanea — from stella, “star”, and nea, “new” in Greek. A new star. She is taking shape slowly, intentionally, the way things worth making always do.
I'm not ready to show her yet. But I can tell you this — she is not designed to impress. She is not engineered to provoke, she is not idealized. In a world that rewards speed, she is slow. In a world that augments and perfects and filters, she is natural and sure of her unique beauty. In a world that engineers female figures to provoke consumption, her gaze goes elsewhere entirely, toward something the viewer cannot see and cannot own.
She is a balancing statement. Not a rejection of the technological world — she stands within it — but a reminder that the human capacity for stillness, for reverence, for genuine beauty, has not been obsoleted. Cannot be. She is something I don’t see in the world of digital art often, and I've been quietly building her from the ground up. The philosophy, the light, the accessories, the face — everything means something.
She is my creative renaissance. And I hope, when she arrives — she will be a balancing statement to the world of creativity.
Stella. Nea. A new star.
More soon.
