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Anastasia Volnaya and Terenty Travnik

Autoportrait by T.Travnik (early years)

Someone, on a distant, distant planet, created a picture where a star was depicted, enclosed, like a pearl, in an ornate shell. The star cautiously released rays – tendrils from under its shell and looked fascinated at the heavenly snails, freely shining in the heights.

Autumn fires. Everywhere there are yellow, red lightning flashes of flying leaves. The past burns up with the fire of gold and blood. The path is cleared. The old man – the wanderer – the silent one walks serenely and decorously. Step is a moment. Step is a day. Step is a year. Step – century…

The golden month colored with the light of the beauty of the night. How beautiful is the darkness that contains the light! The glass angel, standing on the windowsill, was surrounded by a halo of light reflected in it, as if alive, as if animated, he sounded a hymn to the light in his little horn. The heart of darkness is light. Who believed in darkness? This phantom, myth? Darkness doesn’t exist. There is no darkness. Just as there is no death. Darkness is a canvas under the colors of light. Death is a step to a new life. The glass angel will break someday, but the light that once filled it is eternal. And the anthem that is played on a small horn will always sound.