" In Tomilko’s photographs, the female body is not a vessel of mystery but an industrial site — leaking, bruised, corroded, yet endlessly productive. Flesh folds into rubble; thighs into mud; skin into rust. The body and the factory become indistinguishable, both reduced to infrastructures that operate beyond tenderness.

A bruise on the stomach reads like chemical residue, a scar like a conveyor belt. Stockings dipped in dirt suggest maintenance work, not seduction. The body does not speak — it processes. It absorbs, compresses, and discharges, like a piston that has forgotten its purpose but continues to move.

The violence is not external. It is structural. Concrete, wire, and industrial debris do not decorate the body — they mirror it. Maternity, once framed as the ultimate “natural” function, reveals itself here as a site of mechanical reproduction, where nature itself is already industrialized. The womb is no longer the origin of life; it is the factory floor where subjectivity is assembled and exhausted."

                                                                                       - Stas Falkov, FAUX Association