Cassandra's blog or...

Today I have had a dream.   People are flying in an airplane. There are many people in the airplane. There are all mankind. Presidents of all countries aviate the airplane. The airplane falls to the swamp filled with corpses. Is it nightmare? May be...and may be this is reality... I don't know. I know that the ruling elite does not want to think about the future of mankind. Everybody want to live for the moment.

Human world is the Colosseum and all people are either gladiators or the owners of ones. We like to enslave people. We like to make slaves. I am the gladiator in the art world and I say like one:"Going to the death welcomes you!" Life is struggle for survival. We fight for life like wild beasts in the arena of the Colosseum. We must  remember that those who live in glass house should not throw stones. We must be people, but can we understand this ? A man became a beast. Dog eats dog. People! Look how beautiful nature is!

Hello! I am back! Nature works wonders with the man, especially with the artist. I have got a lot of positive emotions from communion with nature. Sun. T he sun is a mystery. Sunrise is a miracle birth of new life. Morning was cold, a hoarfrost shimmered beneath my feet and I was happy. I came to the lake. The sun was rising over the horizon. It was very beaytiful and solemn. It was birth of a new day.  http://roti777.shutterfly.com/pictures/183

Snow, snow, snow again, it's snowing. It's wet, dirtily , cold outside.  It's warmly , cozily, quietly, comfortable inside.   We like comfort. We can not already do without the comfort. I am going to the country, where there are snow a lot and memoirs . Russian space has the ability to cause in man a longing for a lost paradise. Is it remembrance of the future? I have a self-portrait.It is called " Remember about Future ."   Russian space has the special nation of people with a desire for something unrealizable or lost long ago .     Russian man lives either with past either with future, but never lives in the present.

Who is says that people cannot to fly? We can fly in the sleep, we can fly in the dreams, we can but we don't believe. Art is a beautiful dream about lost paradise and a hope about happy future. It's must to be but we are killing it. Art is made a leap in the dark. Amen! They say a cat can see that we cannot to see. What can it see?

It's snowing. "I do not greet each day with a glad cry but am forced out of bed by these whispering nags, drag myself to the typewriter, and am soon awake and alive as the notion/fancy/concept quits my ears, runs down my elbows and out my fingers. Two hours later, a new story is done that, all night, hid asleep behind my medulla oblongata. That, don't you agree, is not optimism. It's behavior. Optimal. I dare not oppose these morning voices. If I did, they would ransack my conscience all day. Besides, I am as out of control as a car off a cliff. What began as a numbed frenzy before breakfast, ends with elation at noon lunch. " Me too.

It's autumn. It's misty morning and drizzling rain. I have thought a lot lately. We don't want to be people, in the sense that man is the image and likeness of God . We are the image and likeness of  a monkey. What is this to be the likeness of God?  I t means, you have a choice between good and evil but you want to make good. Animals don't have  the concept of good and evil. They live by nature. Only a man has the choice. P.S.  Russia has already 9.10 a.m. :)

Oh my God! Today I have got life experience. Experience is the child of Thought and Thought is the child of Action.We cannot learn men from books. People want more than they were given by talent, or by birth. But nobody wants to think that if you put a chain around the neck of a slave, the other end fastens itself around your own.  I would hope that somebody will understand it...

Who are we? Whence are we? And where are we going?  Why does "dog eat dog"?  Why cannot we love each other? There are many questions and there are so a little answers.  Life is a sealed book. "Forth went the sower to sow his seeds..." As freedom's sower in the wasteland Before the morning star I went; From hand immaculate and chastened Into the grooves of prisonment Flinging the vital seed I wandered-- But it was time and toiling squandered, Benevolent designs misspent... Graze on, graze on, submissive nation! You will not wake to honor's call. Why offer herds their liberation? For them are shears or slaughter-stall, Their heritage each generation The yoke with jingles, and the gall. A.S.Pushkin

"At 20 years of age the will reigns; at 30 the wit; at 40 the judgment." I am 40. Already? or still? My body is already 40. My soul is still 20. Soul do not has age.

Today I have finished "Story of my life." Everyone has his life story and I am sure that every story is very interesting and instructive. Our words have wings, but fly not where we would. The story of every man is a diary of his life and there is nothing more tragic in life than the utter impossibility of changing what you have done.

Why have Cain been killing Abel till now? I think many people cannot to live by still small voice. Why? I don't know. What is truth? So many countries, so many customs. Love, money, art, business are only requisites for a drama of life.

Hi! My name is Olga. I am an artist. I am starting this blog because I like to write in English and I like to communicate with the virtual reader. So...