The process of creation feels bigger than me as a singular being. Depictions of the name Lisa Diakova sometimes look weird, sound strange, and lose meaning if you stare too long. She is a concept that only tells one side of the story: I made this.
Humanoid Studio is my garden and Petri dish. It encapsulates this journey that floods my mind with imagery and incessant questions some anonymous animal begs me to answer. What is our purpose if not to create? What does it mean to be human? Do we exist beyond our consciousness? What are the boundaries of our humanness and how do we surpass them?
Making art is a practice that endows us with abilities to transcend our limitations. As creatives, we present stimuli for our fellow humans to encounter. On some level--even if for a moment--perhaps our creations allow us to overlap cognition with the receiver.
I create because I have to; it never lets go. It's a method of materializing my spirit into something fellow humans interact with. If you ask me what it means, my honest answer is that it changes because I change. I only know a work is finished when it begins to haunt me. Through this process, these spirits hold a pipeline to some part of me that siphons life. They exist because I exist. It is a sacred collaboration and a perpetual experiment. Within the artist, some primordial entity manipulates its host; people call it inspiration.
Your Fellow Humanoid,