Collecting Moments

“Воду отключают в десять вечера. Несколько лет назад немцы проложили новые трубы и уехали. В этом году австрийцы должны пустить по ним воду”, — рассказывала мне в 2014-м хозяйка дома в армянском городе Гюмри — бывшем Ленинакане, где в 1988 году произошло страшное землетрясение. Армяне 26 лет ждали, пока европейцы починят им водопровод. В Мостаре тоже возникает ощущение, что боснийцы с тех пор, как закончилась война, постоянно кого-то ждут… Итальянцев, чтобы проложили канализацию, шведов, чтобы отремонтировали разбомбленные дома, немцев, чтобы построили новые. Как сказал один из подвозивших нас водителей: “Босния подключена к инфузии от Евросоюза.” А пока, в ожидании, мостарцы целыми днями сидят в кафе и терпеливо пьют кофе в окружении немых свидетелей войны, на которых уже давно никто не обращает внимания.

Крыша - это пространство свободы. Сверху даже Москва кажется теплее и дружелюбнее.

A haunted house The folks around here say it’s a haunted house. Nobody has moved into it since it was built and nobody would even enter it today unless you are a foreigner like me. For me it was only "haunted" by the beauty of light and shadows playing around; by the wind blowing through and the silence of nature taking over the space…

When in 1993 the construction of the “House of Success” was about to finish, the owner of this luxurious hotel ran out of money. The property was transferred to the bank and stayed abandoned for more than twenty years. Not long ago these two fabulous buildings in Chiang Mai were bought for 20 million dollars. I was lucky today to get inside and explore the hotel as it’s still being renovated. Walked among Greek gods with no wealthy tourists around...

Just the beauty of time growing through...

Заброшенный дом Вера в нём — Крест на стене. Покинутый дом Прошлое в нём — Портрет на столе. Оставленный дом Память в нём — Игрушки в шкафу. Забытый дом Боль в нём — Стекло на полу. Пустой дом Ветер в нём.

Trying to fill the void, the emptiness inside old formless space touched by time. Divided into rooms full of air, breath, life. Feeling young and pretty Like a little girl, amazed by the shadow on the wall, caught in the light. Undressed, free, warm in the freezing wind. A woman without age.

A PRESENT FROM ISTANBUL Yesterday we spent a beautiful day on the green island of Burgaz, half an hour by ferry from Istanbul. I meditated on the sea and walked along the rocky coast. As usual, my souvenir from that trip was an abandoned historical building I found somewhere in the middle of the island. I marveled at its decaying beauty and at the lack of interest from tourists passing by. On the way back I was feeding seagulls from the boat. As my friend put it “Now you are really Turkish!”. When we returned home it turned out that the same day and night in Istanbul the police had dispersed Pride Parade on Taksim square with teargas, water cannons and rubber bullets. Today I met a girl who was there. She was dancing in the street when the crowd suddenly started running towards the metro station. She couldn’t get into the train because it was full and stayed alone on the platform. And the police were firing pepper spray inside the station… She survived and didn’t even get to the hosp