fig in DESERT
My left hand is paralyzed has a wonderful property. When some time she did not pay attention, fingers on her reflexively folded position figs. Here today I just came from the market. Products carried in his right hand. Went home and looked at his left hand.
And her fig. Miracles.
Perhaps it's my inner world thus breaks out. Ha ha ha.
Yesterday we worked with young plumber royal name Arthur. And when he saw my pictures on all four walls and an old guitar on a nail, he admitted that he wrote the music and engaged in arrangement of their tunes. That damn. And in our stone and PVC desert gadgets and divays is possible to meet a normal person. The plot is quite simply taken from the great book P.Koelo "The Alchemist".
And in the oven we have now baked brisket over 27 thousand UZS per kilogram. On the stove shkvarchit potatoes on half thousand per kilogram.
And there is time to talk about my last two paintings that I finished tonight, when Russia creaked again passed on His eternal winter.
1. Painting the hell out of the box.
The attentive viewer will notice a portrait likeness muzzle author with red mug horned equines from the box. This is his and my relationship to the seven deadly sins.
2. Painting "scary."
I have long wanted to portray this great insect. But for a long time could not come up with anything worthwhile. But the story itself originated. And only then, when both pictures were almost ready, I realized that both paintings were inspired by two stories of Kafka, Read more in 70 years in a hostel MAI. Thanks for that magazine of foreign literature, which, contrary to Soviet ideology has published non-socialist nerealizm.
Well, not yet.