Skip to main content

15.06.2011

Bye my friends.
I am tired of the fucking town. So, I am going to holiday to the countryside. Some days in nature will make me happy.
Russian nature has a gift for restore mental equilibrium. There are peace and quiet in Russian nature. You can walk through the meadows and the fields. The song of birds and the voice of the grasshoppers will accompany you all time. Space of the land will strike you by its scale. Sunrises and sunsets will call up dreams about Paradise, the place from which we came.
Russian, Russian! If put you in order, you would be the wonderful country. But there is no a good manager here and I love you too much to make no complaint. It is a pity.
Labels:
Location: Мокшанский район, Пензенская область, Россия

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

13.10.2011

"And when he had opened the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth beast say, Come and see . And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth."
Post a Comment
Read more

07.03.2016

This is my third animation film. "Supper with Picasso" is the title of my painting http://www.saatchiart.com/art/Paintin... and the title of the animation film. "Supper with Picasso" is not a story of everyday life. These are my thoughts about Art. I think contemporary art follows a false scent. This is surreal off-the-wall humor. This is my protest against abomination in the contemporary art. Picasso said:" The real artists are Giotto and Rembrandt, I'm just a clown, who understood his time". He was right.
Post a Comment
Read more

01.02.2011

"Out of chars and ashes, out of dust and coals, like golden salamanders, the old years, the green years, might leap; roses sweeten the air, white hair turn Irish-black, wrinkles vanish; all, everything fly back to seed, flee death, rush down to their beginnings, suns rise in western skies and set in glorious easts, moons eat themselves opposite to the custom, all and everything cupping one in another like Chinese boxes, rabbits into hats, all and everything returning to the fresh death, the seed death, the green death, to the time before the beginning. A touch of a hand might do it, the merest touch of a hand." Step on a mouse and you crush the Pyramids.
Post a Comment
Read more