It would be impossible to count all the people that had ever influenced me, I could start with my parents my sisters, my grandparents, my teachers, friends, strange dates. I love people and I love taking from them.

I trend very hard to make selection and with these pictures, I believe there really is a illusion of this, yet I have to say that it is selection very selective, as I only choose photos of people I love very dearly.

In this text I dont want to write about just them , but about all the influences, that will come to mind, when writing about influences, or those, that I know off, and keep them close in my thought.

Darina
Even as a 10 year old girl I knew, how much is this woman affecting me. I remember facing challenging tasks and remembering exactly this woman. The Italian horse trainer, that had me under her wing for about 6 years made me stronger and not just physically. And being around horses was physical.
(Her favorite word was always, If it doesnt work with force, you need to use more force). She always pulled through and never gave up. She was able to stand agains the 150 kg beast and not even blink (all this in crocs). She taught me how to be dirty and strong.

Bartošová
Another woman, that was on my mind at 10, thinking about future me. My dear piano teacher, and at points my biggest nightmare. Th vigorous training that could have made me good enough was something I never gave my time to , making me often time feel disappointing.
On the other Hand I really learned patience and that anything can be done, if trained hard enough

Luan
It took me quite a while to confess this to myself, when realising, that without him, I might have just study architecture or social science. I loved him, I loved his small room, in a shared flat. I loved seeing all the music and friendly faces. I loved all the circus around his life. I loved him and also, I wanted to be him. I wanted desperately the life of a poor artist, that is all the more richer in experience of everyday life.
I am thankful for this, I am really happy. He showed me what I always craved and I cannot be grateful enough for listening to this want of mine.

being a girl with internet connection

One of the most vital parts of contemporary girlhood is the every staying presence of Internet. What is newest trend, how should I look, act, who should I hang out with and what music should I be listening? Every day I wake up with the phone around 2.5 meter away from my bed and first thing I do is that I get up and with the device in my hand head to the bathroom, kitchen or wherever I feel like. Since the moment I open my eyes in the morning I am strongly influenced by whatever had the algorithm cooked for me overnight.

I dont fight it, I find secret pleasures in the understanding that not even a parent can offer. Simulary to parents modern technology raised me up, but unlike them, it is still under my skin, like good influence should probably never be.

My identity was shaped strongly by my everyday use of applications like instagram, Pinterest and Tumblr. The way I present myself may be copy of what I saw on Pinterest, on my outfit board you can see, the influence of 90 Japanese fashion magazines, heroin chic American actresses, and and maybe a movie star from a movie I still tell myself nobody but me saw. More than movies, I spent countless hours, listening to YouTube video essays, often radicalizing and subsequently deradicalizing myself in thought in the process.

The internet girl I have seen was a melancholic being with lost potential and self harming tendencies. I romanised cigarettes, little food and hours in bed. I wanted rot, party and rot again, wasting away in the girlish way.

Sometimes I cant help it , but to get back to these ideals of my teenage years, the whole fantasy being easier to make, as I dont live with my parent anymore.  

Over and over again, counting the numbers, feeling alone in the space. I vividly remeber a dream where there is a war on earth and there is no place to run. I am sitting on my bed crying, because we are little beings on are little space rock vastly alone in the infinite space. Our universe is just one from many and we know nothing. I felt the nonsensicall nature of our kind, trying to make sense of our utterly unsensicall existence.

Now I wonder if I would be happier child, if my parents were believers in god.

In the winter of 2022 I spended 10 days in the ER, most of this time naked under very light sheets. My urine in the botles under and around my bed. I couldnt talk because of the tubes in my mouth, tubes in my crotch, tubes going out of my stomach, opaque liquids flowing somewhere to be examined.

This time period striped me naked competely, it was the first and only time in my live where I felt absolute unability to create anything.

This drawing was made very fast, without a feeling, as I have gotten a "get better" gift from my grandmother; sketchbook and pens and pencils.

Every week after my flute lessons, me and Ema would go over to my grandparents place. Even though we visited so often, there was always a feel of mystery to the place. We knew that if we dranked the red soup we strenghten our vision and on the night walk we will see bats. We knew that we will fall asleep to Mozart and wake up with the vailings of Whales. There was also things we didnt know. It took me around five years to figure out, that my grandfather doesnt live with my grandmother for a while.

Old a new books adorned almost all the walls, on the rest of them took place various paintings with thick layer of paint and oil. I used to admire the shapes that made up new cities and natures alike.

Things changed after he left again. I never believed him again, his fantasticall stories, his lovely poetry and funny drawings. I hated it as much as a child can hate. I loathed him for abandoning my grandmother, never realizing, that may have been her last call to start living as herself.

The library of my parents, with picture books I could reach

Playlist of me, Ema and Dad, before we had to go clean our teeth

Not just kabk and its program, but preparing for art school in general made me a different person.  The way I started seeing myself. There was suddenly more space in what I could do and spend my time on, there was so my more I was allowed to do in some sense, as as soon I was perceived as an artist, there was apologies made for me. I started making art in regime, made myself more organised. I taught myself to work hard and find pleasures in not having great plan made before diving in.

After getting into the university officially, the space I had before started expanding uncontrollably. There is so much I can do, so many opportunities, that I have to choose (correctly) I became anxious about picking the right way, the right projects and the right spaces)

I am still unsure of what is it I really want to do, or what path to choose, but I am pretty sure atleast two years of KABK, are on my path. It is opening my mind in so many ways. Living abroad helped me plenty with being more independent. The abilities I had picked up are immeasurable.

The thing I asm most happy about is the scale I think about in, in case of my art and what I actually want to do