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"…Soul and body is a labyrinth, replied she quietly, - as any labyrinth
has its soul and its body. Walls of the labyrinth is the body. Paths,
leading or not towards a centre is the soul. To come in means to be born.
To go out is to die. When the walls tumble into ruins, only the paths
that lead or not towards the centre will remain…"
Milorad Pavich "A Fish Scales Hat."
The art is a map of these paths. If creators mange to gain the centre of their labyrinth, they will not only recognize a person never seen before, but also get immortality. I dare look for a centre of my labyrinth.
Now my works and me are here http://vertebra-p.livejournal.com/30.06.07Attantion! Attantion! Very important announcement! A new page - Design emerged at this web-site today!I worked at it two days and posted there everything and a little and I'm about to continue this undertaking, so you will be able to see a lot of my dotty projects. Perhaps Design is the most fidgety path of my labyrinth, even not really the path but a great number of sly benches srewn over the labyrinth, here and there sheltered in nooks behind shrubs and under old branchy trees. You have been going tired and grousing and - oops - here is a nice place to have a rest. 12.04.07Another pondering over the theme of "Cold Love" - a new painting: "The Tree of Loneliness and Hope". And may be a tree of somebody's life, somebody's reserved feelings and hope of deliverance with blooming roots up in the air. 20.02.07A day or two ago I have finished a new painting: "Felix culpa"
(Happy Guilt) for the series "Love is Colder than Death". 14.02.07The sea within… Who has the sea within the soul can wait. My Leo had been waiting for half a year. Not too long for a human being whose life is waiting. May be. At any rate, now you can see his photos and read a piece of his sea-soul in this web-site (pages "Dolls" and "Prose"). 13.03.06Winds are like people - they are lost in labyrinthine spaces, they are lifting stones and strewing birds and clouds above earth, they are falling into snow… Sometimes a strayed wind mixes different time like coffee and milk and a strange feeling appears - the feeling of a foggy morning and void, the feeling of a fiddle and a fable. And now, in days of glimmering March thaw, a white February wind is lost - thin, long and cold. I dislike windy days - they smell like madness. But this day has brought a fiddle and a fable… and a fiddler centaur Sebastian. 19.01.06Fruitful days! A happy family of my dolls widens. Pretty Eve is its new
member. She is an elegant woman and a great singer as she pleases to name
herself. The great singer graciously allowed me to photo her and now you
can see her glorious figure on the page "Dolls". 18.01.06Well, a new fruit has ripened on a wild labyrinth-tree - a frosty white
pear - a new painting for series "Love is colder than Death":
"Cras, cras, semper cras" (Tomorrow, tomorrow, always tomorrow).
It's longing for eternity, unity of everything within everything that
begins tomorrow, always tomorrow. |