They come to us if our eyes
Have no pain remained.
If pain appears – they leave, oh why
A cat’s heart has no shame.

It’s funny, isn’t it, my friend
To train them to be fond
Cause any bonds they wouldn’t stand:
A cat’s heart has no bonds!

You can entice them on your knees
To spoil them but prepare:
A moment – and again they’re free
A cat’s heart has no care.

Marina Tsvetaeva «Cats».

There are many «cat tracks» in my recent works. Where do they lead? Perhaps to freedom and self-sufficiency, perhaps to wildness and easy madness, to Carroll’s Alice or Bulgakov’s Margarita, to the feminine.
Perhaps to freedom and self-sufficiency. Perhaps to wildness and easy madness.
Maybe to Carroll’s Alice or Bulgakov’s Margarita. But certainly to the feminine!
From the shards of memory, the associations, the images, a deep, multi-layered feminine – what is it? Someone will understand and someone will pretend to understand. Then you have to search for the key again. You have to move away and approach again. Do you want to enter a burning house or look coldly into the flames – everything burns. Should you stop a horse at a gallop or immediately realize that it is worth nothing, and prefer to get on the back of a stray cat.
This is softer, more flexible and, oddly enough, truer.
Because the cat, even if it loses its sight, will intuitively find loving hands.