On April 4, 2026, I literally drove the route along which much artistic expression in Russia today is moving. During the editing of the full video work from the Unclosing performance , it became clear: even 13 minutes of the 40-minute action have such a degree of internal density that each of them holds its own pulsation, tension, its own body. Cutting up a work and linking a fragment with a photograph taken during the same period of time seems to me to be an independent statement.

Still from the film "1984" by Michael Radford A review of a great work that I misunderstood. 0. Context 1984 is usually read as the story of Winston Smith, an ordinary cog in the Ministry of Truth who got tired of rewriting history, bought a forbidden diary, fell in love with the rebel Julia and tried to join the underground Brotherhood, but was betrayed, tortured in the Ministry of Love and broken.

On the occasion of Freud's 170th birthday today, two translations from Tony Brachet on the relationship between psychoanalysis and dialectics.

I hear a voice from a beautiful distance, He is not calling me to heavenly lands. Gena sat with his legs crossed. His tail, curved with a question mark, propped up his back. In his hand he held a huge straw hat filled to the brim with fractal blood. Small shining cubes shimmered from within, creating the rainbow glow of the lost childhood of Minecraft lovers.

And Spring a piece of bread alive strong dead I catch crayfish in the river on a rope standing up to his sleeves in water \ I catch the sun with nets \ I calculate the oscillations of the leaves in the garden \ evil tongues I cut off the excess \ I have three hands up my sleeve \ and the apples will turn to stone \ and the day will mingle with the ink of the night \ and I fake every painted face without distinguishing them I asked myself did father laugh like that in the distillery sitting on a