Seeds of the Unfamiliar
textile objects and installations
From the pictorial plane
to the material body
Throughout her artistic practice, Svetlana Rumak uses the language of symbols to give visual form to processes of inner transformation. In Letters Written by Light, traces of lived experience are created through texts, crossings-out, and the layering and destruction of painted surfaces.
In Seeds of the Unfamiliar, this theme and technique move beyond the pictorial plane into the space of three-dimensional textile objects. The project continues the central investigation developed in the abstract painting series, but through an entirely different visual language. It deepens the exploration of personal transformation, focusing more closely on the influence of a new environment that demands adaptation, as well as the absence of a “point of support”.
The personal experience of emigration provides the starting point, but the project is not conceived as an autobiographical account. It opens onto a broader experience: that of someone who must learn to live in an unfamiliar environment and come to know themselves again.
The objects deliberately retain a liminal state: they are not botanical representations but symbolic objects subjected to processes of formation, pressure, adaptation and transformation.
In Seeds of the Unfamiliar, this theme and technique move beyond the pictorial plane into the space of three-dimensional textile objects. The project continues the central investigation developed in the abstract painting series, but through an entirely different visual language. It deepens the exploration of personal transformation, focusing more closely on the influence of a new environment that demands adaptation, as well as the absence of a “point of support”.
The personal experience of emigration provides the starting point, but the project is not conceived as an autobiographical account. It opens onto a broader experience: that of someone who must learn to live in an unfamiliar environment and come to know themselves again.
The objects deliberately retain a liminal state: they are not botanical representations but symbolic objects subjected to processes of formation, pressure, adaptation and transformation.
Project overview
Seeds of the Unfamiliar is an artistic research project exploring how a person’s identity changes in unfamiliar circumstances, and how the psyche adapts to these conditions and records the traces of that transformation.
The seed is the project’s central image, symbolising a hidden potential whose future form is not predetermined but emerges through interaction with its environment.
The sculptural objects evoke bodies or seeds suspended in a process of formation, deformation and adaptation. They are made from primed painting canvas subjected to processes of deterioration, colouring, cutting, embroidery, stitching and filling.
The material retains the traces of each intervention and becomes a surface of memory. Ropes and knots compress the objects while simultaneously supporting them, allowing the project to explore how the same structure can function as both a form of restraint and a means of protection.
The seed is the project’s central image, symbolising a hidden potential whose future form is not predetermined but emerges through interaction with its environment.
The sculptural objects evoke bodies or seeds suspended in a process of formation, deformation and adaptation. They are made from primed painting canvas subjected to processes of deterioration, colouring, cutting, embroidery, stitching and filling.
The material retains the traces of each intervention and becomes a surface of memory. Ropes and knots compress the objects while simultaneously supporting them, allowing the project to explore how the same structure can function as both a form of restraint and a means of protection.
Object No. 1: A Way Not to Fall
Object No. 2: Seed of the Unfamiliar
Object No. 3: Roots Flow Like Time; Time Takes Root in Experience
Object No. 4: 777 Days
Object No. 5: You and Them
Object No. 6: Baggage
Object No. 1:
A Way Not to Fall
A Way Not to Fall
Primed canvas, acrylic paint, drawing, hand stitching and embroidery, threads, synthetic filling and elastic cords.
38 × 24 × 25 cm
2026
The soft textile body is held by taut cords that both support it and alter its shape, embodying the search for balance after the loss of familiar support. The drawing, reminiscent of a tattoo, turns the canvas into a kind of skin on which lived experience leaves its marks. Here, the tattoo becomes a symbol of memory and self-determination, retaining the duality between a freely chosen sign of belonging and a mark through which the gaze of others defines and limits identity.
38 × 24 × 25 cm
2026
The soft textile body is held by taut cords that both support it and alter its shape, embodying the search for balance after the loss of familiar support. The drawing, reminiscent of a tattoo, turns the canvas into a kind of skin on which lived experience leaves its marks. Here, the tattoo becomes a symbol of memory and self-determination, retaining the duality between a freely chosen sign of belonging and a mark through which the gaze of others defines and limits identity.
Object No. 2:
Seed of the Unfamiliar
Seed of the Unfamiliar
Primed canvas, acrylic paint, drawing, hand stitching and embroidery, threads, synthetic filling, elastic cords and metal hooks.
60 × 22 × 22 cm
2026
This work explores adaptation through the changes the body undergoes in order to exist under new conditions. Multiple bindings and seams constrict the canvas, gather it into folds and shape a new silhouette, making external constraints part of its structure. The surface appears vulnerable, crumpled and chaotic. The fabric concealed within the folds symbolises those aspects of the self that must remain unexpressed: they persist within the new form, creating tension between the need to adapt and the possibility of realising one’s own potential.
60 × 22 × 22 cm
2026
This work explores adaptation through the changes the body undergoes in order to exist under new conditions. Multiple bindings and seams constrict the canvas, gather it into folds and shape a new silhouette, making external constraints part of its structure. The surface appears vulnerable, crumpled and chaotic. The fabric concealed within the folds symbolises those aspects of the self that must remain unexpressed: they persist within the new form, creating tension between the need to adapt and the possibility of realising one’s own potential.
Object No. 3:
Roots Flow Like Time; Time Takes Root in Experience
Roots Flow Like Time; Time Takes Root in Experience
Primed canvas, acrylic paint, drawing, hand stitching and embroidery, threads, synthetic filling and elastic cords.
74 × 35 × 24 cm
2026
The textile object №3 exists inside a black box in a suspended state of “uncertainty”. Its long roots remain unanchored but seek support. With its rough, uneven surface, the black box resembles a clod of earth. It is “artificially created” soil that does not fulfil its natural function, yet here and now serves as a “container” for the seed: it both confines the seed and becomes its environment, its home and even its support within this suspended state.
As the roots extend downwards, towards the past, seeking the nourishing soil of experience, a delicate shoot develops at the top of the seed. It passes through a narrow opening at the top of the box and continues to exist beyond its boundaries. This is not a manifesto of liberation, but a reflection on the capacity of everything that lives and grows to transform and find a way to continue within given conditions: to adapt, change in the process and preserve itself in a new form.
The object’s surface retains traces of different interventions: a multilayered pattern, hand embroidery, seams, threads and knots. These traces of “body memory” represent experience accumulated over time—the experience in which the object takes root after losing its familiar source of support.
74 × 35 × 24 cm
2026
The textile object №3 exists inside a black box in a suspended state of “uncertainty”. Its long roots remain unanchored but seek support. With its rough, uneven surface, the black box resembles a clod of earth. It is “artificially created” soil that does not fulfil its natural function, yet here and now serves as a “container” for the seed: it both confines the seed and becomes its environment, its home and even its support within this suspended state.
As the roots extend downwards, towards the past, seeking the nourishing soil of experience, a delicate shoot develops at the top of the seed. It passes through a narrow opening at the top of the box and continues to exist beyond its boundaries. This is not a manifesto of liberation, but a reflection on the capacity of everything that lives and grows to transform and find a way to continue within given conditions: to adapt, change in the process and preserve itself in a new form.
The object’s surface retains traces of different interventions: a multilayered pattern, hand embroidery, seams, threads and knots. These traces of “body memory” represent experience accumulated over time—the experience in which the object takes root after losing its familiar source of support.
Object No. 4:
777 Days
777 Days
Primed canvas, hand stitching and embroidery, threads, synthetic filling, elastic cords, papier-mâché and acrylic paint.
180 × 24 × 20 cm
2026
777 days belongs to the series of textile objects and installations Seeds of the Unfamiliar, in which I explore the preservation and transformation of identity under the influence of a new and unfamiliar environment.
The idea for the work emerged on 24 September 2026, when I discovered that I had been living in Spain for exactly 777 days since my move. Each of those days had changed me a little, bringing new words and new knowledge about the country, its history, Madrid, its rules, culture, mentality and inhabitants.
During migration, everyday changes can seem almost imperceptible when considered individually. Yet, as they accumulate, they gradually transform both the person and their perception of themselves.
This observation led me to ask:
Are 777 days a long or a short time for adaptation?
Is this enough time to begin understanding a new culture and a new city, overcome the initial stress of moving, complete the necessary administrative procedures and begin to feel more stable?
At what point does a new place begin to become home?
At what point do roots begin to grow?
When does the new and unknown become familiar?
The seed: a form in a state of uncertainty
At the centre of the work is a textile form resembling a seed. Like the other objects in Seeds of the Unfamiliar, it is sewn from primed and specially treated painting canvas, embroidered by hand, filled with a synthetic material that gives it volume, softness and pliability, and bound with black elastic cords.
The central concept of the series is the seed as a symbol of transformation under simultaneous conditions of determination and uncertainty. A seed contains a defined developmental programme; however, the future form of the plant is never fully predetermined: it depends to a considerable extent on the influence of its environment.
The object’s suspended state symbolises this phase of uncertainty. Black threads and elastic cords bind and support the form at the same time. They create tension, but also hold the object and prevent it from falling. Stability is understood here not as permanence or immobility, but as a temporary balance within continuous transformation.
The object’s surface retains traces of different actions: hand embroidery, seams, threads and knots. The history of its formation is recorded directly on its surface and within its structure, determining its final form. These are traces of “body memory”—experience that accumulates over time and transforms the seed-object, deprived of its familiar support.
Experience takes on form and weight
A significant part of the white primed canvas remains untouched, like a space awaiting future experience that has not yet been lived or recorded.
A long, root-like “tail” descends from the lower part of the large seed. It consists of hundreds of small forms symbolising the days lived. They are made from papier-mâché, painted white and wrapped with threads.
Together, these elements give material form to time as it gradually accumulates, day after day. A single day is almost imperceptible, but the multitude of days lived acquires mass and weight, becomes experience and gradually transforms identity.
180 × 24 × 20 cm
2026
777 days belongs to the series of textile objects and installations Seeds of the Unfamiliar, in which I explore the preservation and transformation of identity under the influence of a new and unfamiliar environment.
The idea for the work emerged on 24 September 2026, when I discovered that I had been living in Spain for exactly 777 days since my move. Each of those days had changed me a little, bringing new words and new knowledge about the country, its history, Madrid, its rules, culture, mentality and inhabitants.
During migration, everyday changes can seem almost imperceptible when considered individually. Yet, as they accumulate, they gradually transform both the person and their perception of themselves.
This observation led me to ask:
Are 777 days a long or a short time for adaptation?
Is this enough time to begin understanding a new culture and a new city, overcome the initial stress of moving, complete the necessary administrative procedures and begin to feel more stable?
At what point does a new place begin to become home?
At what point do roots begin to grow?
When does the new and unknown become familiar?
The seed: a form in a state of uncertainty
At the centre of the work is a textile form resembling a seed. Like the other objects in Seeds of the Unfamiliar, it is sewn from primed and specially treated painting canvas, embroidered by hand, filled with a synthetic material that gives it volume, softness and pliability, and bound with black elastic cords.
The central concept of the series is the seed as a symbol of transformation under simultaneous conditions of determination and uncertainty. A seed contains a defined developmental programme; however, the future form of the plant is never fully predetermined: it depends to a considerable extent on the influence of its environment.
The object’s suspended state symbolises this phase of uncertainty. Black threads and elastic cords bind and support the form at the same time. They create tension, but also hold the object and prevent it from falling. Stability is understood here not as permanence or immobility, but as a temporary balance within continuous transformation.
The object’s surface retains traces of different actions: hand embroidery, seams, threads and knots. The history of its formation is recorded directly on its surface and within its structure, determining its final form. These are traces of “body memory”—experience that accumulates over time and transforms the seed-object, deprived of its familiar support.
Experience takes on form and weight
A significant part of the white primed canvas remains untouched, like a space awaiting future experience that has not yet been lived or recorded.
A long, root-like “tail” descends from the lower part of the large seed. It consists of hundreds of small forms symbolising the days lived. They are made from papier-mâché, painted white and wrapped with threads.
Together, these elements give material form to time as it gradually accumulates, day after day. A single day is almost imperceptible, but the multitude of days lived acquires mass and weight, becomes experience and gradually transforms identity.
Object No. 5:
You and Them
You and Them
Primed canvas, hand stitching and embroidery, threads, synthetic filling, elastic cords, acrylic paint.
87 × 70 × 13 cm
2026
You and Them explores the distance between a person and those around them in an unfamiliar social environment. Cords with numerous unattached hooks descend from the elongated textile body—potential points of connection that have not yet found anything to hold onto. They embody an openness to contact and uncertainty about its outcome: the desire to belong encounters the need for a reciprocal response.
The knots and intertwined cords form a complex system of potential relationships. The work addresses a state in which a person is already among others, yet a sense of community has still to be built. Belonging emerges gradually through encounters, recognition and mutual acceptance, while preserving one’s individuality.
87 × 70 × 13 cm
2026
You and Them explores the distance between a person and those around them in an unfamiliar social environment. Cords with numerous unattached hooks descend from the elongated textile body—potential points of connection that have not yet found anything to hold onto. They embody an openness to contact and uncertainty about its outcome: the desire to belong encounters the need for a reciprocal response.
The knots and intertwined cords form a complex system of potential relationships. The work addresses a state in which a person is already among others, yet a sense of community has still to be built. Belonging emerges gradually through encounters, recognition and mutual acceptance, while preserving one’s individuality.
Object No. 6:
Baggage
Baggage
Primed canvas, hand stitching and embroidery, threads, synthetic filling, elastic cords, acrylic paint.
90 × 34 × 20 cm
2026
In Baggage, a soft textile seed-body is joined to two decorative capitals and bound together with them into a single bundle resembling packed belongings. The architectural forms evoke cultural memory and the familiar order of the world—what a person continues to carry with them after relocating.
The capitals, associated with stable support, become part of the baggage being carried, simultaneously burdening and constraining the pliable body. These elements create both connection and tension: between the possibility of new growth and the forms a person has inherited from the past.
90 × 34 × 20 cm
2026
In Baggage, a soft textile seed-body is joined to two decorative capitals and bound together with them into a single bundle resembling packed belongings. The architectural forms evoke cultural memory and the familiar order of the world—what a person continues to carry with them after relocating.
The capitals, associated with stable support, become part of the baggage being carried, simultaneously burdening and constraining the pliable body. These elements create both connection and tension: between the possibility of new growth and the forms a person has inherited from the past.
