Art school was something I gave up for the career in music. I buried a huge box with drawing ink, brushes and sketchbooks under my bed. A beautiful white piano emerged on the scene instead. In 7 years I was done with my musical ambitions, leaving the piano behind in my room in Russia.
Now I live somewhere between London and Barcelona, but more often in my own dreams. Doing something down-to-earth called journalism, I am still yearning for my poor-lit room where I used to make music and...art.
Art was something I never betrayed. Driving my bike to the beach, I drop Tracey Emin's book in the basket. I draw body lines of the men I love. I write my articles in CSM library. I drag heavy coffee table art books to my flat from all around London. On the drunken nights out on La Rambla stumbling across a little gallery, I always pop in and get even more drunk... with art.
I want to document every injection I take and share the inspiration and power it gives. Let this blog be a little online shelter for anyone who is yearning for art, anyone who has a dusty box under their beds, anyone who wants to discover more just like I do.
Me having some cava in a small modern art gallery in Barcelona.