Molding is the boundary between living matter and technical craft.

When the plasticine modeling is completed, the moment comes when you need to fix what was breathing, moving, and changing before.

Now it is necessary to preserve everything — the slightest traces of fingers, transitions of light, vibration of the surface.

I perceive this process almost as a ritual: the form, as a living being, must survive the transformation and not lose its soul.

The sculpture is covered with separation layers, then with a silicone or plaster shell, which absorbs every millimeter of the relief.

Everything must be extremely precise — an error of tenths of a millimeter can distort the idea.

Molding requires attention and patience.

Sometimes the work goes on for days, when every detail is thought out in advance so that the shape does not collapse.

When the plaster sets, there is a special moment of silence — as if the sculpture itself is holding its breath.

Now she sleeps, cocooned, and waits for the next birth.

For me, shaping is an act of trust.

I give the matter into the hands of the craft, so that I can return it in a new body.

After removing the shell, the original disappears — only the print remains.

And this has its own philosophy: to be born again, you need to let go of the old.

The next step is to transform into wax, where the form becomes alive again, ready to meet fire and bronze.

Molding is a way to keep the breath in the material,

and at the same time it is the art of saying goodbye.