Memories and now
- Where are the paints? Dad had gouache and brushes somewhere. Found it! Blue on paper. Not. Wrong feeling. I'll try to mix purple with blue. Yes - this is closer to my understanding of the correct colour. What an amazing amount of paint. This is a coloured thick cream for the soul. It is necessary to give the blue-violet development, otherwise, it is somehow lonely. It must interact and vibrate. Orange! I'll take yellow gouache, a little ocher, red and a little purple. This will be the girlfriend for my blue-purple hero. Here it is - connection, play, interaction. Now everything is better.
- God, why is this happening? Why don't people reciprocate? I am wrong, rejected. Blackness is pierced by lilac colour. Flashes of red with orange. Emptiness in the space of the acute. Where are the paints? Brushes? Black, even more ... no, it's not that bad. What overflows and depth. This is a riddle and an all-in-one answer. Black is the secret of consciousness. I add a drop of blue, touch it with burgundy, and the narrative appears. An encouraging hope has emerged. I will mix a little green with blue, give an air with yellow-white. So the black hope develops and begins to play with other facets. Everything will be fine!
- Found a watercolour. Boring. The colour is transparent, there is no texture. I feel nothing!
Indifference. I don't love him anymore. Emptiness. Matte, blue-white with pink - hopelessness. It's like watercolour, in which there is no sex between texture and colour, but only airy romance. What to do? Maybe I can already try to paint in oils? They say that you first need to work with watercolours for years and only then switch to oil paint. Rip me up and throw me outside the rules. Who is saying?! What for? That's it!
-Oil colours. The first strokes on the palette - crying. If there was a heaven on earth, then it was created from the colour of oil paints. This is the highest feeling that I have experienced up to this moment. Mixing a colour from oil paint is like experiencing all the sensations of the past, and still looking into the future.
Ultramarine with indigo and white, shaded with ceruleum (blue) and purple. A sigh of cadmium yellow and lemon. Exhale cobalt blue-green with turquoise. Memories of how we are going with my mother across the field to pick mushrooms. A cold, refreshing forest with hot spots of the sun shining through the foliage.
Happiness. There is endless happiness. Here it is - colour. I want to live here.
- You have to portray figurativeness.
Pouring rain. Cold. I am writing under a birch in Kolomna. There is a cloudy greyness in the body with rosy hope.
The birch image was needed only for the beginning. State entry. For adjusting colour perception. Colours copy the inner experience of the moment. The emotional state has no physical body. What kind of figurativeness are you asking from me ?!
- I was taught as a child - sit down, relax and look at the person. Feel it, not with your eyes, but with your gut. A white emerald shroud played over my partner's head. Beautiful, sensual, airy, lively. Man is material. This is flesh and blood. His energy belongs to this material. They are inseparable from each other. And what about emotions? White aura is my state. This is my subjective vision. And if I see this together with a person, matter, then in my world the aura is material. The partner sits and does not know that he is so glowing. Tell him?
- The birth of new matter is the transfer of the emotional into the material. This is the creation of a shell, a body for something more, something that has not yet existed. Violet pink, flashes of orange - sex. The new is always greater than the old. This is a set of experiences and knowledge of the next level.
An artificial imitation, a fake of the real creation process, laid down by nature, is always felt. Whitewash squeeze out onto the canvas and add red cadmium and ultramarine next to it without kneading! Fuuuuu! Blurred head, I want to leave.
People! Open up your inner perception. Do not settle for false imitations, depriving yourself of the happiness of development. Translating emotions into the material is a sacrament. It can be faked, but you will know about it. Violet pink, flashes of orange and a little more blue, explosion. The birth of new material, new flesh with emotions.
But failures happen.
- The fire of red is burning inside. Sharp black shimmers. Bitter hopelessness. Finding comfort. Mental pain is not material, but it is a colour. But, how can the tangible and tangible be not material? The brain is looking for ways to heal; it seeks to protect its nerve cells. Defocusing, handwork. Colour, colour, colour. Dull can be translated into rich and juicy. Smooth corners, patch up gaps. Time at work helps rethink. What colour is it, can you understand it? Through what can it be comprehended? Through matter? Through a person?
- "I think, therefore I am." I exist as thinking matter performing actions. Emotional perception of reality induces a riot of colour in the body. This colour becomes energy that needs to be released. Its implementation takes place in work, in action, and the result of these actions is a natural development, and ageing under the influence of time.
White luminous space with black in the middle. One can realize this space in size, but it is impossible to go beyond this awareness. Time is a closed space flowing in the colour of material perception. It is a rushing movement intangible darkness, where white, luminous air is the driving force around this darkness. The brain protects me from this, it softens the hopelessness with colour. The beauty of this colour. Beauty is the work of as many senses as possible at one moment in flight mode.
The workshop smells of paint. I constantly drink coffee, and the songs of birds and the joyful cries of children are heard through the open window. I mix paints with my hands. Colour, colour, colour. There is happiness - that's it. Time is closed now.
- You have to paint figurativeness.
Pouring rain. Cold. I am painting under a birch. There is a cloudy greyness in the body with rosy hope.
The birch image was needed only for the beginning. It is an entry into the state. For adjusting colour perception. Colours copy the inner experience of the moment. The emotional state has no physical body. What kind of figurativeness are you asking from me ?!
- I was taught as a child - sit down, relax and look at the person. Feel it, not with your eyes, but with your gut. A white emerald shroud played over my partner's head. Beautiful, sensual, airy, lively. Man is material. This is flesh and blood. His energy belongs to this material. They are inseparable from each other. And what about emotions? White aura is my state. This is my subjective vision. And if I see this together with a person, matter, then in my world the aura is material. The partner sits and does not know that he is so glowing. Should I tell him?
- The birth of new matter is the transfer of the emotional into the material. This is the creation of a shell, a body for something more, something that has not yet existed. Violet pink, flashes of orange - sex. The new is always greater than the old. This is a set of experiences and knowledge of the next level.
An artificial imitation, a fake of the real creation process, laid down by nature, is always felt. White squeeze out onto the canvas and add red cadmium and ultramarine next to it without mixing! Fuuuuu. Blurred head, I want to leave.
People! Open up your inner perception. Do not settle for false imitations, depriving yourself of the happiness of development. Translating emotions into the material is a sacrament. It can be faked, but you will know about it. Violet pink, flashes of orange and a little more blue, explosion. The birth of new material, new flesh with emotions.
But failures happen.
- The fire of red is burning inside. Sharp black shimmers. Bitter hopelessness. Searching for consolation. Mental pain is not material it is a colour. But, how can the tangible be not material? The brain is looking for a way to heal; it seeks to protect its nerve cells. Defocusing, handwork. Colour, colour, colour. Dull can be translated into rich and juicy. Smooth corners, patch up gaps. Time at work helps rethink. What colour is it, can I understand it? Through what can it be comprehended? Through matter? Through a person?
- "I think, therefore I am." I exist as thinking matter performing actions. Emotional perception of reality induces a riot of colour in the body. This colour becomes energy that needs to be released. Its implementation takes place in work, in action, and the result of these actions is a natural development and ageing under the influence of time.
White luminous space with black in the middle. One can realize this space in size, but it is impossible to go beyond this awareness. Time is a closed space flowing in the colour of material perception. It is a rushing movement intangible darkness, where white, luminous air is the driving force around this darkness. The brain protects me from this, it softens the hopelessness with colour. The beauty of this colour. Beauty is the work of as many senses as possible at one moment in flight mode.
In the studio smells of paint. I constantly drink coffee. The songs of birds, the joyful cries of children and the continuous movement of the highway are heard through the open window. I mix paints with my hands. Colour, colour, colour. There is happiness - that's it. Time looped in the now.