I love dancing, even if it's just a random track in the kitchen when no one is looking. For me, dancing is a way to let go of everything that has accumulated during the day and feel alive again. I take modern choreography classes: it's not so much about perfect technique, but about listening to your body and letting go of control. I also love street dance flash mobs - they have so much energy, as if the whole city suddenly begins to breathe in the same rhythm. The rest of the time everything is the same: watercolors, books, quiet evenings. The cat, of course, looks at my dance warm-ups with slight bewilderment; she prefers quiet comfort, but still settles down next to me, as if holding an island of silence for me in case I suddenly want to just sit and take a breath. And I like that there is both movement and stillness in my life, both of which are important in their own way.

I like to start the day with a cup of tea and a couple of minutes of silence - just sitting, listening to the house wake up, and collecting my thoughts. I work as a graphic designer: I like to turn ideas into bright layouts, and also analyze other people's work and notice successful details. In my free time, I go to plein air paintings - I paint city corners in watercolors, trying to catch the special light. On weekends I give myself a “screen-free day”: I read paper books, leaf through albums with reproductions, and bake something simple. And in the evening, a cat always settles down next to you and purrs quietly, as if approving of the day. This is not the most important thing, but it is so cozy: when someone is waiting at home, even the most ordinary evenings become warmer.

Sometimes I dream of collecting my watercolors into a small exhibition - so that someone will stop, take a closer look and suddenly feel the very light that I caught with my brush, the very silence of the alley or the trembling of the reflection in the water. I would like people to see the city a little differently through my drawings to notice something they usually rush past. I also dream about a trip to a place where everything is unusual: different smells, a different rhythm, a different sky - I want to pick up new colors and then transfer them to paper. And in the evenings, while the cat purrs on my lap, I think how important it is to cherish these quiet moments, they don’t require anything in return, they just keep me afloat and remind me that happiness is hidden in the little things. And I want to believe that both big dreams and these cozy evenings can calmly coexist in one day, without interfering with each other.

I dream of becoming a professional photographer, not just shooting, but telling stories through frames: catching light, noticing details, conveying emotions. I want to travel to places where the world reveals itself in its own way: in quiet morning streets or in the wild - and capture these moments in order to preserve not only the picture, but also what you feel at that second. At the same time, I don’t want to lose my little joys: dancing to my favorite track, watercolor sketches, quiet evenings with a book. My happiness lives in this balance between big dreams and cozy moments.