.my January, part one.

Януарий – тигриное что-то.
Ягуарий, янтарий, январий.

– Н. Ванханен, “Зима империи”

Shining in its crown of purity, the New Year has conquered our minds. Intensively, brighter than a million of suns. Yet I’ve already put a few blots on its cloak, but in the end I understood that it’s not a bad thing, no, it’s my own little fairytale. Maybe it’s a little darker than usual, but who in hell needs stories about princes and white horses?

Anyhow, I got to escape from the Grey Shades City and its pink sky to the country, to my godfather’s house. 100 km from the city, and I could see the stars. I could even hear a rooster singing. At midnight. In winter. I’ve definitely lived not long enough in the village to understand it. And sometimes I wish I lived there – I’m not that much of a city person.

Of course I’ve taken a few photos. The ones I took with The Monstercamera aren’t developed, so here is a bunch of crappy digital ones, made by me + an unknown quantity of red wine.

Winter wonderland.

"Night, street, lamp, drugstore,/a dull and meaningless light..." Alexander Blok rules.

Almost a gingerbread house.

Orthodox Christmas, morning, 8 am.

Empty bars in Russia exist. I've seen.

Lonely bars.

The time for the party didn't come.

A window view.

A window view.

Another window view.

Artificial butterflies die, too.

Winterholidaying me. Hangover and a cold included.

Random church.

Campfires. An obligatory thing.


~ by Anna on January 9, 2010.

One Response to “.my January, part one.”

  1. What a beautiful insight to your part of the world. Love your work!

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