Photography

When the cold soil became a maternal womb for me, where were You?

When I ploughed the earth from within to see the sun, where were You?

It was You who buried me, it was You who drove the nails into my coffin, looking down from above, as the living look at the dead.

I sank my roots into the soil so passionately that my crown eclipsed the sun. I absorbed the moisture of the earth so greedily that royal peacocks envied the span of my branches.

So why do you, like ravens, want to build nests on my pasture? Why do you stretch your oily fingers toward my tree? To pluck a leaf from my gardens? To bite off a piece of my fruits? Have mercy! Have mercy! On yourselves, for now I am in the favor of the Sun.

I will nurse them with fresh milk, lay them on downy featherbeds, and sing them lullabies. I will hold them, bless them, and allow them to kiss my palms. My patronage is the guarantee of their happiness. Eat, my dears, drink, my beloved ones. Live in the vastness of my kingdom.

They may allow themselves to be carefree in order to appease my appetite. They may frolic while the table silver is being polished. For for every predator there are a dozen carcasses. And this self-sacrifice is voluntary, though unconscious.

My darlings, be joyful every second of your lives, for the water comes to a boil far too quickly.

With golden goblets he scooped up wine to quench his thirst, proclaiming human envy the measure of his own greatness.

He raised white-stone palaces, cultivated Babylonian gardens, and with bare feet walked upon precious stones as if upon the earth.

The Sybarite grew gluttonous. And hunger, like a pack of dogs, tore at him both in dreams and in waking life. And upon his deathbed he could not sate his desires. The truth remained hidden from him.

Hungry is the one who is hollow within, for no earthly food is capable of filling the abyss of the human soul.

And who doesn’t like birds? Their death is always justified by flight. I only wanted to draw closer to them, cutting off the weight of what had been lived, to gain the lightness of the future. The past is always against wings. It is easier to run from it than to drag it like a sack on fragile shoulders.

Did I know how it would all end? No, for the future is unknown, and that is why it is alluring. My slain selves, like jealous lovers, followed me; they wanted explanations. And what could I say? I am a bird. My lot is flight, theirs is killing. Someone’s desire will always be fulfilled. How sad that this time it was not mine.

The opening of the exhibition of the ChBKARMA project took place on October 22, 2015, in Venice, at the Oi Va Voi Studio gallery.

The creators of the project: Elena Kindyakova, Yulia Bondarenko, Roman Cherpak.

The project “Hidden Grandeur” was created in 2014 with the support of the Ministry of Culture of the Saratov Region and the Saratov Socio-Economic Institute of Plekhanov Russian University of Economics. The organizers were the Global Shapers Community Saratov.

The goal of the project was to raise the level of culture and education in Saratov and the region, to attract the attention of patrons to the preservation of the city’s architectural features, to support historical style in contemporary construction, and to draw public attention to the condition of private households.

More than one hundred applicants submitted applications to participate, but only 12 photographers passed the competitive selection.

During the project, participants conducted photo shoots of more than 15 historical buildings of the city: the mansion of F. Katenev, the estate of V. P. Alexandrovsky, the mansion of I. P. Schmidt, the mansion of engineer Timofeev, the Opera and Ballet Theatre, the Conservatory building, and many others.

A competition of the created photographic works was held, as a result of which a professional jury selected the winners. Natalia Menyakina took 3rd place.