If burns the fire of my love –
My sail struggles with a waves.
Which way will the decision go?
Among a hopes and a failures.
I'm as a fragile little stalk,
Above a chasm, neath starry cope.
Like ephemeral butterfly,
And while I'm breathing – have a hope.
Usually, the page "About the author" is the boring enumeration of dates and names -when he was born, in what institution studied, and what kind of ranks and regalia he has. Still it is possible to place here an article of the art critic which in abstruse specific and obscure terms will describe my works and will explain their secret sense (which he does not know). But all these things are not present here. The one who has eyes, does not require helps. He is capable to understand and estimate. I am surprised by fact that people in the question trust to critics more than their own eyes and hearts.
AMIGO-K7 @ UKR.NET
Now about me. Hardly someone from you is interesting, when I was born also what school have graduated. In fact what is the biography? A chain of dates and figures between the person is transformed from the alive person in dry statistical unit, living between two dates - birth and death. The most important in my biography is that I was born and the last date is not put down yet. I try to write my life with wide bright brush strokes without draft copies - only clean.
If you will point with a finger to the geographical center of the map of the Europe you can find there my Motherland, where I was born once. It is Ukraine. The country which never knew rest but always wished it. On the flag we have represented the blue sky and a yellow wheaten field. We have mixed unattainable spiritual cleanliness of heavens with carnal beauty of the ground, with its all virtues and vices. The people living here have incorporated incompatible sincere qualities. In the wonderful way opposite desires, aspirations and constant inconstancy of ideas have interwined in them. I belong to this people. My life is not like a continuous line on which memorable landmarks of any events stands. More likely this is mosaic in which I try to collect something comprehended of numerous color slices. And partly with it I am assisted by my creativity. " Dum spiro, spero ". While I breathe - I hope. These words sounds as a guiding star leading on road of my life, through the storming ocean, where human destinies are as tiny sparks in a gloom of a Universe.
By the way, if someone will want to write to me any message my E-mail is before you. Welcome to my guestbook.