* * *
In this problem - a person and a thing - a lot of fine faces. The thing thanks to a person acquires independent being. Man, producing a thing, reveals himself. Study things discover the ineabilities of nature, talentedly made - glorify the Creator. And this applies not only to the area of artistic creativity, but the most of our life, which occupies often in the soulless and anti-nesthetic block boxes, in geometrically stupid spaces of small-sized apartments, in inhuman fields of new buildings, insulting and eye, and the land on which they grow.
Is it possible to wage war against this gray monotony, which is already there, and in the calculation of which we are populated? Is it possible to fight for survival in a combined bathroom and five-meter kitchen, in an eight meter room, in a skinny corridor, a quiet and cruel war like the one that a man-minded mangoste with a monstrous nude?
Very hard. Almost hopeless. But sometimes the power of the spirit can be defeated and this in our fault of a broken matter, to organize an oasis of existence inside this the talentless space.
* * *
In a small room - a fit window. Well, not quite fit. In block nine-story buildings there are no fittings - the window seems to be fitted. When the hostess so chidly invented and cried the curtains. She gathered fragments broken over a long time the dishes and on the wall near the shell laid out his own mosaic from multicolored porcelain shards.
Wherever you quit the look - everywhere surprise. From somewhere on top hangs several wicker baskets. In one - pure underwear, cooked for ironing, in the other - collected on the repair.
"Very little place," the mistress explains me, my girlfriend Galya.
And it converts this flattened space. It is satisfied with the sunrigues, makes movable light sources. Mirror, black, white - everything works in their laws, and these Galya knows the laws. She is a theater artist. And she never ceases to be never, even in a dream, even in a small apartment with an area of twenty-two square meters.
And the charm of this theatrical space is so large, which retreats the initial stupidity of these cells.
Here we are sitting in the kitchen, next to the eternal kettle, - as it should be real Muscovites. Galya, a birds aiming in some kind of rag with her yellow eye, takes her and begins to argue with large fingers. I am in idleness. She is no. Her hands are always busy. She apologizes: do not pay attention, I will be hung with my hands. And hees.
Children's fur coat, blowable, worn, but stored heat than a dozen causing her children, lies in front of her on the table. It cuts off the buttons, shakes the lining, sighs and cuts insoles ... Even from the most worn fur coat it turns out at least four.
Once, with me, minor patchworks of different-sighted fur were aligned and glued onto a wooden bench. Now I am sitting on this "fur" bench and watching how a worn fur coat and old tops from boots turn in front of the suede wallet, pocket, a case, in a leather photo frame, in household slippers. And each item is independently beautiful and full in its new being. Silk, velvet, twine, burlap, who has already been talked, suddenly discover some new qualities in the Galina hands, and the birth of new things happens. Maybe it is more correct to call the resurrection of the material?
What to say, talent is always a special job. In addition, this supernatural sensitivity to the material, whether it is a piece of packaging fabric or a spiny lump of cactus, in Galina - a professional trait.
But look at your children! The "Children's World" breaks from toys, and boys weave from wire in a multicolored braid of homemade soldiers. And the girls glue in pairwise matchboxes, glucurate them with a pink atlas - and it turns out a bed for a deweist! They are always ready to fall into dresses from a grandmother's chest, they are always ready for the theater, not waiting for invitations. Only in the hands got a suitable material - a rag, buckthorn, shell. Apparently, in childhood, all people, not just artists, is inherent in free attitude towards matter and natural love for it.
Most of the adult is indifferent to the bird's a bird feature, to a glass ball, to a color pebble - and from here takes the beginning of the indifference to things that surround a person, and indifference to the world, in which these things exist.
A certain thinker in the deep antiquity of the Peasian world on the material and spiritual principle, and this predetermined such a worldview, in which the form can be considered regardless of the content, and consciousness from being. Having entered into a labyrinth, where the first developments were the arrows "matter - to the right, the spirit - left", the man began to wander on fascinating corridors and met in their centers of Minotaur. Looking around, I learned in the monster of myself.
Matter, torn off from the Spirit, turns out to be a greedy mass of the breed imperturbing and devouring itself; The spirit, exciding from matter, departs so far that the poor human consciousness does not affect him.
The antique world loved matter. Medieval treated her with suspicion. We, the materialists of the XX century, turn out to be its defaults. Materialists squinted with matter ...
And it is beautiful and noble in all its forms: in the form of river sand, speckling with a gentle rustling with palm to palm; in the form of water, land, air and fire.
It is also beautiful and noble in her man-made embodiments: in bread, wine, dishes, clothes, in human housing.
Matter deserves love, respect and admiration. Careful relationships. And even thanks. And if we do not want to understand if we do not change our attitude towards her, the world will turn into a very boring garbage.
(Excerpt from Lyudmila Book Ulitskaya "Sacred garbage")