Nix – Daughter of the Primordial House

In October 2025, in his studio in Obolon, Kyiv, Serhiy finally felt that moment. A month earlier, he had held a photo shoot—a simple studio session: a model draped in fabric, a dark background, contrasting light. The photos were filed away, waiting. He was in no hurry. The war raged on, the days blurred together, and inspiration came rarely and unexpectedly.

On that October day, the sun filtered through the dusty windows; echoes rumbled somewhere in the distance, but silence reigned in the room. Serhiy printed this image onto several sheets of paper. Then he laid out a helium mat, took out his acrylic paints, brushes and a rag. He began working on the print: applying black, blending it, scraping away layers, adding golden-brown tones. The paint flowed, cracked, forming random scars and stains — control dissolved, like an illusion.

From the depths of the paper, She emerged — Nyx, daughter of primordial Chaos, goddess of the night, older than the Olympian gods. A tall figure with a wing-bow, a moon-shield, hair that merged with the shadows and the shards of the world. This was not merely a model from a photograph, but rather something ancient that had awakened through the layers of paint.

Every brushstroke was a quiet resistance: the night does not hide from chaos — she is older than it, overcoming it with calm. In her, one can hide from sirens, explosions, and hopelessness. By day, under the indifferent sun, Serhiy summoned the night that protects.

When the work had dried, the image became vivid and clear. Nyx gazed through it — silent, unyielding. A quiet pact with the darkness: ‘You will survive all this. You always have been and always will be.’

And so, from a single photograph, after months of waiting, amidst the light of day and the distant echoes of war, this monotype was born—a rebirth in black and golden-brown. Nyx, daughter of Chaos, became the guardian of the night, which comes and goes, but never truly fades away.