To attract the attention of viewers, artists are recommended to provide more detailed information about where and from whom they studied, in which places and for how long they exhibited, in which collections their paintings are held, and for what amounts they parted with them.
As for me, I honestly admit that I never properly studied anywhere or with anyone, remaining an underachiever from an academic point of view.
Perhaps for this reason, among all types of artistic materials, I preferred the not very serious colored pencils and paper, thus bridging from my childhood and allowing its fairy-tale fantasies to cross over into the adult world.
And suddenly it turned out that adults, in their angry world, still greatly lack that kind, naive, colorful childhood. Therefore, the pencil drawings of an underachiever suddenly became quite in demand, granting me the right to honestly admit in the "profession" field that I am an artist.
Probably for the same reason of an unfinished separation from childhood, my worldview still holds a naive idea that, like all living beings, this living world also has its Mother. Great, universal, almighty. And the fact that this world appears lost, at least its human part, indicates that at some point for some reason it got lost and is separated from its kind mother. Therefore, she must be found and, like a disobedient child, the whole human world must once again earn her care, protection, and wisdom. Her almighty maternal love.
That is why my work also includes pieces on this theme.
And since I strive to be completely sincere with my viewers and readers, I confess that I have studied, and studied with many, although without their knowledge. I learned from artists — Shishkin, Aivazovsky, Monet, Andrew Wyeth, Rockwell Kent... — and many others. I learned from cinema — Tarkovsky, Gerasimov, Marlen Khutsiev, Pierre Richard, from good old Hollywood... — almost endlessly. I learned from writers and poets — Herbert Wells, Herman Melville, the Strugatsky brothers, Pavlov, Pasternak, Voloshin, Nabokov, Khalil Gibran... — and so on, even more than from artists. I learned from music — The Beatles, Pink Floyd, Eagles, Uriah Heep, Aquarium, Bravo, Mashina Vremeni, Bach... — even more than from artists, writers, poets, and even more than the endless cinema.
And for some time now, I have earnestly strived to adhere to the principle once formulated: to make living things for a living soul, hoping that William Blake will ultimately prove right: Eternity is in love with the productions of time. Because art is meant to serve the manifestation of the eternal in the fleeting, being in everyday life, spirit in matter — meaning in the meaningless.
Have I managed to discover the maternal principle in the universe? In a certain sense, probably yes, since someone above still cares about my "childish" pictures and even allowed me to become a member of such a wonderful community of talented people as Baranow Art Gallery.
Therefore, I will allow myself to suggest that, having ended up in someone's home, my pictures will somehow connect you with this universal maternal principle, allowing you to begin returning under its care and protection. Allowing you to guess that, in fact, everything we have, dream of, and want from this world is given to us by Her.
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