I leave my town when I get tired from its sounds, smoke and people evil. I go to my country where I have peace for my body and my mind. I can hear how grass grows and stars talk to each other. The air in my country is permeated with the smell of fresh milk. Sunrises and sunsets are filled with special beauty. Everything breathes tranquility. I am happy.
“ There are lonely artists. They do not find any response or recognition during their lifetime. Away from the generations of their time, from the rapidly arising and drifting away “requests”, “directions” and “currents”, they contemplate and create their own, lonely, appealing as if not even to people (“Accept! Delve into ! Heal and get wiser ! ”), but to God (“Receive my lonely prayer!”). They do not turn away from people, but people turn away from them: people look but do not see, listen but do not hear, or, in the words of Heraclitus, " absent being present”. I. Ilyin “The Lonely Artist”. - I was four years old when my older brother was given colored pencils. I took these pencils and said: "I won't give them back ." And a person dear to me, my mother's sister, said: "Don't touch him, he will be an artist." (V. M.) ValentinMassow was born in 1937, on the centenary of the death of A.S. Pushkin , in the family of a provincial doctor an...
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