Fantasies on the edge of the surf

When dawn touches the horizon on the shores of the Black Sea, a dragon lies peacefully in the sand. Nearby, dolphins seem to have just leapt from the waves, and a mermaid with long clay hair gazes thoughtfully into the distance. This isn’t a fairytale. This is the world of Irina Zagaichuk, a Ukrainian artist who transforms sand into emotion, movement — and magic.

From her native Odesa, Irina creates more than sculptures — she breathes life into the shore. Each of her creations is a story you want to hear, to touch… at least until the next tide.

How it all began?

It all started simply: Irina was sculpting small sand figures to entertain her niece. But the deeper she delved into this pastime, the more a whole world unfolded before her — a world of creativity, freedom, and a kind of art that doesn’t demand eternity, but presence in the moment.

“I was completely captivated,” Irina says. “At first it was little things, but then I wanted to create something bigger, something alive.”

Now her beach gallery is a true show of nature and imagination: one day, dolphins; the next, a pensive girl or a mythical creature that looks like it stepped out of a storybook.

The birth of a mermaid.

A special place in her heart belongs to a mermaid sculpture, created during a summer trip to the wild beaches near Yuzhne. After a strong rain, the colorful slopes revealed their secrets — bright layers of yellow, blue, and terracotta clay softened and became workable.

“Before the rain, the clay was too hard, but afterward — it was like nature itself invited me to create,” Irina recalls. “That’s how the sitting mermaid was born.”

She dried in the sun and became a true ornament of the coast — even if just for a day.

Characters with soul.

Irina’s work often balances between playfulness and philosophy. A curious bird stares at a giant slice of cheese. A pearl rests in an elegant shell, surrounded by flowing waves. A snail, a frog, penguins gently embracing a tired fish — everything is filled with life, meaning, and love.

And the dragon? It lies as if in slumber on the beach, with claws, wings, and every detail crafted with care. In the photo beside it — Irina smiling. As if she’s not just the artist, but the guardian of this mythical creature.

The beauty that fades.

“None of it lasts longer than a day,” Irina says calmly. “But that’s where the real beauty is.”

Her art exists in the moment. Someone might take a photo. Someone else might pause in awe. Another might erase it with a single step. And that too is part of the process.

“If it brought someone joy — that’s enough,” she adds with confidence.

In 2023, Irina took her sand dreams far from the Black Sea — to the black volcanic beaches of Madeira. Even there, the ocean embraced her art with delight.

Each new place inspires her differently: the texture of the sand, broken shells, strands of seaweed — anything can become the start of a new sculpture.

Whether it’s “The Lovers”, sitting in silent embrace, or a mermaid perched on a cliff, Irina’s creations make you pause. They remind us that wonder is near — we just need to look closer. Sand becomes breath, sea, and soul.

If you ever find yourself on a beach in Odesa — or any shore where the wind blows and the waves sing — keep your eyes open. Perhaps a dolphin, a dragon, or a dream, sculpted by Irina Zagaichuk, is waiting for you there.

But there’s a thought that’s impossible to dismiss: Irina’s inspiration is nature itself — the sea, its creatures, its rhythm. And if we, as people, don’t learn to protect this world, if we continue to pollute, destroy, wage war, and treat the ocean as a resource rather than a living system — soon, all that remains will be only in the sand. Only in sculpture. A memory of what was once real. Without nature, there will be no inspiration.
Without dolphins, no joyful dolphins sculpted in sand. Without the sea, no life — no artist — no us. We still have a chance. To stop. To listen to the waves. To look at the footprints in the sand. And to understand: we’re not just looking at art — we’re looking in the mirror.