I'm open to commissions and collaborations. If you're interested in working together, please reach out to me via ann.parfenen2018@gmail.com or through the social networks shown in the contact information section. If you enjoy my work, you can also support me on Ko-fi.
Start with a featured selection, or explore the gallery in chronological order or organized by themes. Use filters on the left to refine your view.
A rotating selection of works that continue to resonate, reveal new meanings or define the direction of my practice.
A rotating selection of works that continue to resonate, reveal new meanings or define the direction of my practice.
The collapse and reconstruction of identity. Portraits of alienation, burnout, desire, and the violence of existing in a body that both protects and betrays you.
Animals observed as living forms and psychological mirrors—embodying instinct, vigilance, vulnerability, and the persistent will to survive.
Landscapes shaped by remoteness, memory, and the limits of perception—places where distance becomes less a measure than a state of being.
Fleeting studies of weather, silence, and dissolving horizons, guided as much by water and chance as by intention.
Where nothing is fixed, everything is possible. Between waking is where I learn to let go.
No object, no scene. Only structure, tension, and the shapes that thinking makes on its way through.
Invented places shaped by longing, and memory—imagined so vividly that they begin to acquire the weight of real landscapes.
Those who live in daydreams.
What the mind does when it stops performing.
Breathing where you shouldn't be able to. Weightless, watched, and still alive.
Flowers, organisms, and constructed forms considered as temporary systems—delicate arrangements sustained through tension, adaptation, and care.
Quick captures of what it feels like to be alive right now.
Landscapes that are really states of consciousness.
One color, or none at all. What's left when color stops helping.
Sketchbook mornings. Whatever the page happened to be for that day.
The city I learned to call home, in the hours when it's quiet enough to notice.
Small records of places, encounters, and passing moments—fragments of life condensed into images.
Unanswered visual statements: private thoughts, confessions, and questions released without a known recipient.
Ordinary objects examined as vessels of time, use, intimacy, and presence—even when no figure appears.
Handmade Objects.
I study how systems change — and visualize how it feels. Structure meets surrender; the image holds the moment between them.
I’m a computational biologist and visual artist. I spent years observing living systems — how they adapt, break, and reorganize. Then I met states with no scientific terminology — only sensation. I now apply the same method to interior experience, rendering emotion as direct visual observation. Some states don’t have language yet, but they can have form.
I work at the threshold between structure and surrender. I set constraints: composition, color systems, biological references — then introduce variables that destabilize them. What emerges is the interval between plan and accident, held open long enough to witness. Some works use biological imagery because certain feelings behave like cellular processes; others dissolve into abstraction because some states resist external form.
I do what resists language but demands to be seen. The work asks you to look until pattern gives way to sensation — and to notice what it does to you right now.