Noemi S. Conan

Painter. Potato enthusiast. Image Maker.

Exploring life after a nuclear disaster. Feral Femininity. Silvan Domestification. Considering Post-Communism. Theories of Surplus Value. Don’t quote me on the size. Plastic in the woods. Living the contradiction filled life of an Eastern European in the West. 

Wilderfrau for the New Millenium. 



Works on Paper and OTHER


Commisions, collabs and charity work
Match Point

Who said sunbathing cannot be a gothic past time. It’s so reductive to claim that the most gloomy horror imaginable won’t catch you out on a sun drentched field in the middle of the day. A smoke, the sun’s eye reflected in the mask of sunglasses, sweat collecting in the nooks of the flesh and the sudden urge to rip into shreds whatever or whoever stands in the way of an even tan. Meridiana is not just the stuff of legends, you know?

Diana, 2020.

Hear her call, and don’t peak too early. You won’t like her when she’s angry. You won’t enjoy falling out of favour. For now, you can consider yourself safe. 
For now. 
By Way Breakfast. August 2020.

A hearty meal is the most important meal of the day. A busy day calls for a powerful and well balanced meal. And a cigarette is a welcome palette cleanser before a second serving.
Running. March 2020. 

She doesn’t have time for your nonsense. And she isn’t interested in your opinion on her wardrobe. She is already uncomfortable and annoyed. Don’t make it worse. 

It’s tight, but she can and will run, if you push her.

Hilary. February 2020.

She had time to think it through and it’s actually all your fault. She isn’t going to give up smoking to appease your mother. Get an air freshner for the car.