Monday, 23 January 2012

I often feel like a good injection of art.

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   

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. 

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