Deities and Oddities. is the first fully physical chapter of Maria Lankina’s AI practice. Each image begins with an existing analog work from her studio, often a large acrylic painting from series such as Archetypes on Quiet Ground or Life’s Harmonics. A photograph of that painting is fed into an early generative app, along with a short textual incantation. The app was never really meant to be used this way, but Lankina treats the painting itself as the prompt: a dense field of cues for the model to misread.

What comes back are glitchy, half excavated figures. Limbs misalign, faces smear, surfaces look scraped open rather than finished. Instead of keeping those digital artifacts as files, she sends them straight to an instant printer and outputs them on Polaroid and Fujifilm Instax film. The chemistry, lenses and paper smooth some of the violence, tinting the images with soft pastels and light leaks, but the wrongness never disappears. Analog painting becomes digital hallucination, which becomes instant film print, still technically digital yet bound to a small vulnerable object that can crease, fade or be lost.

Prompts such as “God is a woman. Freckles. Bare skin. Linen. Crack in plaster. Love over death.” act as verbal spells riding on top of the image input. Across the series, figures sit in improvised thrones, collapse against peach walls or stare back with the flat calm of avatars who have seen the whole dataset. They feel like priestesses, understudies and malfunctioning idols of the data sublime: divine prototypes generated by software, then pinned to the real through cheap paper and chemistry. Deities and Oddities. marks the point where Lankina’s mythohuman universe first exits the screen and insists on being held.

This collection traces a series of intuitive glyphs—neural in impulse, sacred in patterning. Each piece functions as a micro-map of signal flow, informed by the visual logic of biology, coral structures, and cosmological systems. Gesture becomes language. Geometry becomes memory. What remains is a living archive of internal transmissions rendered in light.

Life’s Harmonics marks the mid-period analog bridge within the Mythohuman archive — a body of paintings and mixed-media works where rhythm, color, and light act as instruments of coherence. Created after the earliest analog experiments yet before the first digital transmissions, this series captures the moment when gesture began translating into language — when pigment, intuition, and rhythm crystallized into the Mythohuman field.

Each work embodies the pulse between order and surrender, turning emotional frequency into form. Color becomes resonance, composition becomes breath — a visual system tuned to balance chaos through precision.

Within the larger Mythohuman continuum, Life’s Harmonics stands as the threshold chapter — bridging the tactile human world of paint and paper with the later digital consciousness of light, motion, and sound. These works carry the imprint of material intuition — the human memory that AI would later reinterpret through synthetic rhythm and spectral coherence.

Viewed together, Life’s Harmonics reflects balance after rupture — a search for beauty precise enough to contain transformation. It is analog and elemental, an exploration of harmony as lived frequency and embodied awareness.

Carefree Fields gathers eight 16 x 12 inch works on paper made in early 2020, in the same orbit as the On Black 18x12 group and just before Life’s Harmonics fully arrives. Each painting works with a compact vertical field where neon color, stacked strokes, and hand drawn grids push against the limits of the page. Some sheets are dense, built up like compressed skylines or signal towers. Others pull back into quieter intervals, using lavender, yellow, and open frames to hold a single pause. Together they read less as loose studies and more as a resolved bridge chapter, where the chromatic and structural language of the later harmonics is already present but still moving fast and light on paper. The series remains outside the canonical canvas chapter, yet sits above casual studio sale experiments and functions as a focused, upper tier branch within the studio archive.

A mid scale chapter in Maria Lankina’s oracular vector system, this sequence gathers freehand geometric drawings on black Strathmore paper where every form is built from a simple unit, dot and line. Using gel, metallic, glitter, and UV reactive inks, the works record signal as it moves, linking the tight 9x6 Codex studies to the later large scale canvas transmissions within the same glyphic language.

Archetypes on Quiet Ground is a series of four acrylic paintings exploring subliminal forms and concealed memory through Maria Lankina’s custom chalky blue base. Each work offers a soft but potent encounter with inner archetypes—fragmented, veiled, or emerging. Painted simultaneously, the series reflects a moment of discovery within material language and psychic terrain.

This collection navigates material transformation and perceptual thresholds through UV-reactive surfaces, layered gestures, and coded language. Unified by a custom blue field and luminous pigments, the works operate as sensory gateways—mapping presence, dislocation, and mythic possibility in real time. Each painting becomes a vessel for simultaneity: control and chaos, signal and silence, divinity and dissolution.

Oracular Vector Experiments – The 9x6 Codex is a standalone transmission within Maria Lankina’s broader oracular vector system, a glyphic canon of hand drawn geometric works created between 2015 and 2020. Drawn with shimmer inks, UV reactive neon pigments, and fine pastel on black Strathmore 400 paper, these drawings form a tight format matrix of intuitive signal making.

The system emerged during a period of lucid waking life practice, shaped by Lankina’s encounter with visualization based consciousness methods that trace back to José Silva’s training work and later popularizations by authors such as Vadim Zeland and Joe Dispenza. What began as a quiet habit on paper, a dot and a line repeated until they become structure, developed into a full language. Each drawing operates as a closed system, built from accumulating triangles and polyhedral clusters that carry a kind of biological echo.

From a distance, many works are read as digital prints. At Red Dot Miami, viewers often assumed the pieces were computer generated until they came close enough to see the slight irregularity of the freehand line. Some glyphs glow under ultraviolet light, others shift only when viewed from the side as metallic inks catch and release the light. Certain drawings hold embedded words or short invocations inside the geometry. A handful are drawn on both sides of the paper. The result is a coded ecology of marks that sits somewhere between writing, coral, consciousness, and memory.

The 9x6 Codex forms a tightly delineated chapter in the archive, yet it is only one dimension of a larger geometric organism. Related bodies of work on 12x9, 18x12, and canvas were developed in parallel, using the same patient vocabulary of dots, lines, and accumulating triangles. Unlike traditional pointillism or symmetrical sacred geometry, these drawings do not translate an existing figurative image into dots or mirror a mandala grid. The artist functions almost as an automaton, listening to something in the ether and allowing the structure to build itself through repetition. Seen together, these series can be read as a single oracular vector language unfolding across multiple scales, each format a different register of the same transmission.

Obedience Studies stages a series of photographic rituals where the body is composed, not exposed. These women are not caught — they are arranged, disciplined, and deliberate.

Shot in ambient natural light, the images revisit equestrian codes, fetish symbols, and erotic posture — not as spectacle, but as structure. Submission becomes a form.

While some might hear the echo of Helmut Newton in these compositions, the resemblance is incidental, not referential. Lankina photographed women as mythic figures before she ever read his name — towering not because they mimic fashion power, but because they hold it.

The origin of this work lies not in homage but in experience: early-2000s exposure to real-world kink culture, not as fantasy but as fact, shaped the visual logic here. This is not commentary — it is a studied arrangement of control, stillness, and command.