Among the works, one stood out — a boy on a horse, built around a found fragment of a 1980s carousel. Suspended in the dim light of the museum, it seemed almost luminous, holding within it a sense of paused time. It was not simply a form, but a state — delicate, precise, and deeply evocative.
The impression was so strong that the idea of the gift transformed. What emerged was a desire to create something personal — a work that would carry a similar emotional resonance, but with Aliya herself at its centre.
Nadya embraced the idea, and the process began with observation. In the artist’s studio, Aliya posed, sitting on the horse for extended periods while measurements were taken and sketches developed. It required patience, yet the experience was never rigid — it was alive, fluid, and filled with small moments.
Other children were present in the studio, and the process unfolded naturally around them. They sculpted, glazed ceramic pieces, laughed, and moved freely within the space. The studio became not just a place of work, but an environment where art was lived rather than explained. For Aliya, the experience was also shaped by small, personal details — including meeting Vesna, the artist’s dog, which became one of the most tender and memorable parts of her time there.