19.05.2025
The Bug of Hope
Kharkiv, Ukraine

In my performance The Bug of Hope, I questioned the fragile reality of Kharkiv, now in its fourth year of brutal war. Dressed in pink, I strode forward, with my translucent Bioism wings catching the light, reminiscent of sunlight filtering through the air.
The pink "Bug" is ridiculously strange. We know its ugliness from Kafka’s Metamorphosis. For some, it evokes the May beetle—a symbol of renewal springing forth from decay. In the software jungle, it signifies the unpredictable errors of emerging artificial intelligence. Yet from divergence, hope emerges from the unknown.
Biologically, hope is entwined with survival. It activates brain pathways, releasing neurotransmitters—the foundation of joy. In dark times, hope flickers like a distant star. It speaks to our instinct to adapt and evolve. This hope is bizarre. As I crossed the street, I became a buzz of this message. Like the creatures of the earth—imperfect and persistent—I moved, shaped by mistakes, representing Hope: the unexpected beauty of error.
Following the performance, my wings and helmet were integrated into an installation in the chemistry auditorium of Kharkiv University. This added vitality, kindness, and devotion to the vision of paradise engineering. Life is a process of flaws that drive transformation. The Bug embraced the unknown; it carved new paths. In the heart of chaos, hope endures. Always.