CREATIVE EVENTS

 

 

 

 

I've been living outside my native country, Russia, for almost half of my life. Being of a creative profession, I often deal with language, words, as well as with people and their reactions. Up until now, I mostly wrote my poetry and prose things in Russian, scared that I won't be able to clearly deliver my thoughts and portray how and what I feel.

Musicians and dancers are lucky in this sense- rhythm and harmony is their language, which everyone can understand if they wish. However, I don't believe that an artist can belong to one particular nation - when you touch things with your art that are important to everyone, than you can't belong just to one country or language group.

 

There's also an infamous quote about actors, that says that most of them are bad at reciting poetry; whereas a poet can recite anything, because he has a rhythm within. Indeed, when I write something I always write to different music. I can't write in silence; it's almost as if I need a metronome. Even now I remeber what music played when I was writing each of my pieces. For me, the rhythm is the most important thing in writing. And here I don't mean a classical understanding of rhyme. A rhythm can also be within the written piece, only sensed by the reader.

 

So, here is my question then...how much is writing about rythm and how much is it about meaning and sense? How would a person who doesn't understand a word, "understand" a written piece? That I am trying to explore with my work too...  I always ask myself a question what ist actually a prose? What is poetry?

Is there a nationality to art? How does an artist overcome national, geographical and mental barriers? This question I'm trying to selve with my works.

 

 

I don't really know why words just come into my head and become sentences, feelings and impressions. Sometimes they come easily, with well-shaped rhymes. And sometimes I feel the urge to say but carry it, unable to express the it how I see it, thinking that it will never happen again. This ongoing fear. And after such a despair comes back harmony again.

 

The only thing that I know for sure, is that words do not come to me when I feel good. I should feel uneasy, hurt, lonely and only then something comes out.

In a state of happinness we are not able to project any other feelings.

Selfish, as it is, it swallows us without a trace...