When I moved to Armenia, I woke up several times at night from a thunderstorm, thinking that an Azerbaijani rocket had arrived. There are amazing emerald mountains in Vanadzor. Looking at them, I wondered how many people were lying there. I left Russia when the war started, and now the war has overtaken me in Armenia. It’s amazing how at such moments you try to hide in some kind of pretentious calm. I often thought of Windows XP wallpaper, where the sun glides over green hills, and also a photo of Gursky’s "Rhine II". The Rhine is one of the largest rivers in Europe, which has witnessed the rapid growth of Western civilization, but all objects have been removed in the photo and now it is an ideal, a nonexistent river-abstraction in timelessness.

Yo, dogs! I am Dima Maikovich aka Dimachka Gadyushkin. I am the bottom of the artistic life of this house, a stinking herpes, a frozen loogie. After all, everyone knows that ten farts-art-professors are not worth a green curl of the beautiful Ника Призрач (Nika Prizrach). When you see a package sticking out of a dog’s ass, remember that a boy’s insides are a potential railroad. Tubes are also corpses. Every morning, the sun with the face of a sex doll holds out its hands to me. I was hit in the head with a bottle in Anapa in 2005, that’s when I first fell in love with a corn seller on the beach.