The INK (fragrances) collection contains six fragrances, each uniquely embodies its corresponding generative artwork, produced at the time of purchase from the INK algorithm, resulting in a handcrafted, exclusive formula. The bottle itself, also handcrafted, serves as a container but stands as an independent object. A drop of crystal ink.

Involving other senses, and for that, crafting a scent to coexist and transcend at the same time the visuals, it becomes not just fragrance, but a reminder that art, like memory, lives beyond the visible.


INK speaks to the bold insistence on leaving a trace, a mark that knows it will fade, yet persists. A poetic contradiction lies in each stroke: the pursuit of permanence in a world destined to vanish. Whether in blue or black, in pencil or rust, each line reflects fragments of human experience – perhaps figures, animals, or letters – yet none of it is real; it is only experiences, biases, dreams, and demons.

To this, INK adds the handcrafted as part of the experience—a scent that lets us declare, “I was here; I existed.” Rather than rely on the slow decay of ink, paper, or perhaps one day pixels, we lean on what is within our control: memory, boundless, infinite, and ours alone. For a moment, breathe it in, take in the work. In this quiet persistence, we find our redemption—an echo of those who remain and those who have already gone.


INK is a profoundly personal project. As Velitchkova says "Life doesn’t give us what we desire without first demanding something in return". INK is Velitchkova's answer to a year filled with hard lessons, hopes, and losses. Built upon these experiences, each line structure tells its own story, echoing to a song by Travis—a band that knows the artist's steps better than most.

This series traces the history of inks through algorithmic iterations. Each one is reimagined as both a medium and metaphor. Iron gall ink, used in medieval Europe, ironically corroded the manuscripts it aimed to preserve. Blue ink, made practical by the 20th-century ballpoint, serves the demands of modern life. Black ink, from ancient Egypt and China, symbolizes permanence in official records and last words. White ink, an accent in manuscripts and art, was never meant for the mundane. It exists to illuminate, to contrast, used sparingly for highlights on dark surfaces.

INK draws from the simplicity of Picasso’s single-line figures, Chillida’s sculptural weight, Kline’s expressive brushwork, and Basquiat’s chaotic yet precise gestures. Yet it seeks neither homage nor critique, it merely stands as a mirror, reflecting our insistent need to matter.