Ever since I was a small child growing up in the tight-knit communities of my rural Russian village, I've always been an observer, a voyeur, if you will. The world was a canvas painted with people, their desires, dreams, and compulsions. From the elderly couple next door bickering about the best way to prepare borscht рџЌІ, to the first bloom of love between teenagers situated under the amber glare of street lights, I soaked it all in. I was in the wings, collecting fragments of human emotions and experiences, using them as the fuel for my creative fire.

As I grew older, my thirst to observe, to explore, was dwarfed only by my desire to inhabit these myriad of personas that filled my mind рџ“Ћ. I yearned to feel what they felt, to navigate the complexities of their existence. That's when I discovered the liberating world of performance art and fantasy role-play. Nothing could quench my craving for human connection better.

Sometimes, I'd be a heartbroken lover, delivering a soliloquy of desperation and longing, tears streaming down my faceрџ’”. Other times, I'd be a proud warrior, wielding an imaginary sword, showcasing the raw power of resilience.рџ’Є Inhabiting these personas was like experiencing multiple lives within this single one. Each experience was a sweet, intoxicating drink that I gulped down without reserve.

There was a performance I recollect, one that was particularly unique from the rest. I was in the role of a seductive voyeur рџ’‹, a woman with the power to see through the veils of reality, spotting secrets that others hid even from themselves. I found myself onstage, baring my soul to an audience that was eager, waiting for the click to explore the depths of this character. Their eyes urged me on, this empowering, electric connection was something I reveled in. It felt raw. It felt real.

Yet as liberating as the performer's life was, I still found myself drawn to the silent observer's role. I adored the connection that sparked between me and the audience when I performed. But there was a different, quieter thrill 😚 in watching them react--their gasps of surprise, their hushed whispers, their applause echoing through the halls. It felt like I was glimpsing into their very souls, getting a peek at the raw, undiluted expressions they revealed only in the anonymity of the darkened theater.

Balancing between these two contrasting worlds was a dance, in rhythm with the pulsating beat of life. A swirl of raw emotion, bared desires and concealed thoughts – a gallery of living art that I helped create and yet, was an avid spectator of. The collective breath that the audience held before a dramatic turn, it was as much my creation, as it was their response. The lines blurred, the roles interchanged and that's the heart of what I do and who I am. An artist, a performer, a voyeur.💭💫.