Art College #26

Minsk, Belarus – Bachelor's degree (BA)

1990 - 2000

Belarusian State Academy of Arts

Monumental and decorative painting, Minsk, Belarus – Bachelor of Fine Arts

2000 - 2007

Hand Drawing and Painting (Pencil, Ink, Marker, Water and Oil based paints). Graphics drawing Tablet, iPad. Digital, Graphic editors

Strong communication, Creativity, Excellent ability to take responsibility and work in a Team (completing or assigning tasks), Confident sense of humor

Mitya Pisliak is a Belarusian-born artist and illustrator based in New York City, known for his striking black-and-white mural work, playful character illustrations, and thoughtful reflections on life, loss, and creativity.

Raised in Minsk, Mitya began his artistic journey not by chasing a dream, but by following his twin brother into an after-school art studio. It was his brother’s early talent that caught the attention of teachers, and both boys were enrolled in art classes, later attending an art school and eventually the Belarusian Academy of Arts, where Mitya trained in monumental and decorative painting. These years gave him a strong technical foundation — and the discipline of a craftsman. For a time, he embraced the role of an “executor” of other people’s visions, working across mediums and styles for architectural and interior design firms throughout Belarus.

His next chapter began in 2019, when Mitya immigrated to the United States. Settling in New York, he embraced digital tools, working primarily on an iPad to create illustrations that blended real-life photography with imagined characters — small, expressive figures who soon became his visual alter egos.

But in 2010, Mitya found his own voice — in black ink. His minimalist black-and-white drawings, often executed with just a few markers, became his signature style. Portable, clean, and bold, these works allowed him to create murals that were fast to install and impossible to forget. Though clients were hesitant at first, over time he built a following and developed long-standing relationships, turning his artistic language into a recognizable brand. This period lasted nearly a decade and resulted in dozens of projects and friendships born from shared creative energy.

These whimsical beings gave voice to his emotions and reflections, adding a personal, narrative layer to his precise linework. As his style evolved, he managed to combine his past — disciplined black-and-white technique — with the present: emotionally resonant, digitally enhanced storytelling.

Mitya’s work and worldview are deeply influenced by a series of personal experiences — moments that challenged his beliefs and ultimately deepened his connection to life and art.

At age 30, Mitya was diagnosed with hepatitis C and told he might have just four years to live without treatment. The news forced a complete reset. He gave up alcohol and unhealthy habits, and for several years lived with intense purpose — traveling solo across Europe, creating work, and acting on his impulses without delay.

Eventually, his health began to decline, and he decided to undergo treatment. Fortunately, a revolutionary drug had just been released in the U.S. — and a generic version was available in India. He underwent the treatment and fully recovered. The lesson, he says, was simple: life is short. Whether you have four years or fifty, each moment counts. The key is to listen to your inner voice and act accordingly.

In 2015, Mitya’s twin brother — born just 15 minutes before him — died by suicide at age 33. The two had grown up inseparably, sharing childhood, art school, and early adulthood. His passing left a deep mark on Mitya and his family.

Over time, Mitya began to feel his brother’s presence in new ways. Whether one believes in the soul or not, he says, “I don’t just believe — I know.” This event prompted him to explore spirituality and the afterlife, shaping a new understanding of existence and helping him embrace both pain and beauty in life.

Just before moving to New York, Mitya suffered a serious accident while riding an electric scooter in Minsk. He fell, hit his head on the pavement, and suffered a fractured skull and brain hemorrhage. He regained consciousness days later in the hospital. Doctors said he was on the brink of death — and had already prepared for the possibility that he might never walk again.

But he recovered quickly. The experience, oddly, did not result in spiritual revelations — no tunnels, no lights — and briefly left him disillusioned about the afterlife. Life went on, and so did he: with new projects, a wedding, and eventually, a new life in the U.S.

Mitya describes immigration as “social suicide.” Everything familiar — friends, family, language, recognition — stays behind. In a new country, you start from zero. There are doubts, breakups, periods of isolation. The process is both brutal and transformative.

Inspired by the writings of Michael Newton and Carl Jung, Mitya reframed his life not as a battlefield, but as a journey or a game — a series of levels, each more complex and rewarding than the last. He views his years in Belarus as one completed chapter: he found his voice, worked with major clients, gained recognition. New York, then, is the next level — harder, richer, more demanding.

Once he embraced this mindset, things began to shift. He found community, creative opportunities, and a sense of home. New York opened up to him — and he, in turn, opened to it.

Today, Mitya continues to explore the world through his characters and lines, blending introspection, memory, and playfulness into a body of work that speaks across cultures — a visual language shaped by experience, and always evolving.