The harsh art world forces us to live by its own laws, to adhere to certain concepts and phenomena. It is imprinted and deeply penetrates us, making us belong to a certain structure with its own laws. Here everyone has his or her own well-defined place in the hierarchy of artistic values. Every action is subordinated to the desire to assert one's position in the authoritarian grouping of the visual arts. The artistic school of life forces one to abandon personal convictions and move to the side of communal notions of authority.
Often resorting to the classics, relying on their authoritative name, simplifies the understanding of their legacy. It is a natural process, to say the least, to be blurred from common usage. Pushkin, Gogol, Dostoevsky, and Tolstoy all lose the fullness of their work to the reader, narrowing down to the authors of one or two well-known works. The whole idea of the writer slips away, but a new one emerges, as convenient as we organically modify it for ourselves.
Walks around Tsarskoye Selo. Visiting palaces. A touch of beauty. On a gloomy and overcast day you want to visit the Czar's Palace, get a glimpse of the amber room's radiant lights. Marvel at the luxury of the imperial chambers, feel the wealth and splendor of past eras. In the splendor of the amber room, feel proud of the breadth and richness of our Motherland. And then return to everyday reality, dipping into the petty hustle and bustle of everyday life. To dream and try to be close to the beautiful in any way.