my white room

i never saw a moor—
i never saw the sea—
yet know i how the heather looks
and what a billow be.



two days a week i see wide river dressed in ice by the edges
there are waves and winds most of the time. accidental blue
paper from our cutting exercise. having so many notebooks
on my shelf but never finding one in the backpack

and again, this connection between your looks and your soul,
favourite weather and the words you choose, the order of these words
and feelings, yet again got mistaken by thinking that the one who
loves nature so much can be so cold towards nature, too - people

wall of words and lower -
1 drawing everyday

холодность к кому-то от человека, которого я знаю
пугает меня еще больше, чем та, что ко мне

это зимнее, а 

завтра весна. 

как кто-то написал, что раньше в феврале и марте весну еще и
не замечали, жизнь была медленной, писал пришвин. снега
таяли к маю на севере.

меня задевает чье-то отношение к кому-то, не к себе. от этого
еще холоднее. что же там случилось?


  1. soft sensitive rawing
    and baby blue paper
    i love those lines
    as i love that pile of drawings


    nice to see you here again

  2. a tender blue
    to enter an enchanted landscape
    and walk along a river

    a soft adn peaceful grey
    to dream about
    and more magical landscapes

  3. This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

  4. oh, these simple and strong lines!
    i can imagine your river much more
    and at the same time it's like a long road ahead
    under grey sky wide...


thank you
for taking time
and leaving a word,
i will reply right here.