In August 2024, I was invited back to Russia for my second mural festival of the year.
This time, the festival took place in Omsk, Siberia. I was excited to explore this part of Russia, as I had never been so far east into the country before.
The wall I worked on was huge, my second-largest to date. The festival's theme varied, and I chose to create something unifying, peaceful, and awe-inspiring.

The festival was set in a residential neighborhood surrounded by high-rise apartment buildings, predominantly home to families with children. The flight was long—I traveled from Porto to Istanbul, then from Istanbul to Moscow, and finally from Moscow to Omsk. After missing some sleep, I was exhausted, but as soon as I arrived, I was taken straight to the wall. I had a brief meeting with local residents, who asked me a few questions about the design I had prepared. That night, I rested but was up early the next day, ready to begin.

I had only 10 days to complete the mural, which made me nervous because I wanted to be very precise with the design. Any delays, especially from the weather, would be a huge problem. I also wasn’t sure if I would finish in time to make my next event in Southend.
Fortunately, as always in Russia, everything was well-organized. My lift and materials were ready to go. This was the first wall I’d painted with an assistant. In the past, I had always rejected the idea, thinking it would be more work to manage someone else and ensure the tasks were done correctly. But this wall had two large hanging lifts, and it wasn’t possible to operate both at the same time. Given the tight deadline, I decided it was best to have an assistant who could use the other lift and help fill in large areas with acrylic paint.
On the first night, we planned to project the design onto the wall, but we had to wait until 10 p.m. for it to get dark. Unfortunately, the rain came, and I was delayed. I now had to wait until the next night to project the design. With my day wasted, I decided to add an extra white base layer to the wall so that the colors would pop more once painted, and the projection would be more visible.

The next night, despite some rain, we pushed through and completed the projection by around 3 a.m. I went home for a few hours of rest before starting work again the following day.
As with most large walls, I began painting from the top and worked my way down. This way, I could minimize the time spent at the top of the wall, which is more time-consuming due to the lift. Going from top to bottom, like a printer, allows me to make the best use of time and materials.
The design for this festival was bold and meaningful. It featured a large astronaut with a reflective black helmet, holding the Earth in his hands. The reflection of the Earth could be seen in the black visor. His suit was reminiscent of the early red Soviet space suits, while vines, leaves, and plants grew from his suit, wrapping around him and the Earth. I painted a glowing green heart on one part of the suit and two holes representing the lungs, with roots and vines growing through them.

The entire piece was inspired by the "overview effect." This is a cognitive shift reported by some astronauts when they view Earth from space. Researchers describe this effect as "a state of awe with self-transcendent qualities, precipitated by a particularly striking visual stimulus." Common aspects include an appreciation of beauty, overwhelming emotions, and a heightened sense of connection to people and the Earth as a whole. The experience can change the observer’s self-concept and value system, leading to a transformative outlook.
I wanted to convey a sense of hope and beauty, showing that we, as people of Earth, hold the world in our hands. We have the power to make a difference in what happens on this planet.

The neighborhood was welcoming, and I made friends with a young family who brought me some of the best local food I’d ever had. They had a small dacha, which is typically a small patch of land with a very basic house where food is grown and produced. Every day, they brought me tomatoes, gherkins, peppers, homemade pies, cakes, and more.
This generosity had an impact on my mural, and I decided to make some changes to the original design. In England, when someone works with plants a lot, we say they have "green thumbs." Initially, the astronaut in my mural had blue-turquoise gloves, but as a nod to the family who had been bringing me food, I changed the thumbs of the astronaut to green. This way, they would always have a little part of the mural that belonged solely to them.
I also became good friends with my assistant, Anton. He and his wife had a young daughter, and together, in broken English, we talked about the joys of having children.
My time in Russia was, once again, an amazing experience. I felt lucky to connect with the local people in a way that was both genuine and memorable.
