A Man and the Beach
A photostory shot on the beach of Primorskoe village in Ukraine
Short Annotation.

In the summer of 2013 near Odessa, I've been writing short essays and post them on my Facebook page.

In the spring 2014 with some help of Rodchenko School, Hannes Wanderer and my mom, I published a book with 128 beach photographs and diary of summer 2013.

All the books I sold or gave away. I had plans to republish the book in Peperoni, but couldn't, because of the circumstances.

This web-page contains web-version of the book "A Man and the Beach". Last time I named it "A Man and the Sea", but it's mostly about the beach and it's funny - I couldn't write the word "beach".

There are about 50 photos, that are mixed with text with lots of mistakes. Simply I don't know how to fix them.

The pictures are related to text, but don't illustrate it, they are just "standing around". I've shot them from 2009 to 2013.

I want to move them to timeless space - that's why there are no dates under photographs and texts.

Everything happens from july 2 to september 6.
Today is the 5th, or rather the 6th of July. I'm in Primorskoye and I'm going to keep a record of my stay here.

Yesterday I went to the seaside, shot one film, swam, ate a steak with mushrooms.

My house is a complete mess. Actually it's a huge pileup of various objects.

I have three packets of cigarettes (Dunhill and Gitanes), 50 rolls of film (Ilford), a kilo of ground coffee (and coffee-beans, Lavazza).

I can't say that I'm sad or lonely. Today I've visited Victor, showed him different stuff on my iPad: photos, BJP, a design of my future flat.

Before my departure I'd downloaded different things on my iPad. There are several games (quests), music, 3 issues of BJP, some more games, and my iPhone with 8G of music, and new Fisher headphones (a seller recommended to me them as
"extremely durable").

It turned out that the sea water is muddy because of the river Danube. What a relief! (I thought it was dirt).

I do everything little by little. Here is what I do: Facebook, Hector (Ep.3), BJP, take pictures (I have one film which is already shot, actually a bit more, but it's not so important). I took a table outside (and an armchair). I have already played poker. I won't play poker till the end of my summer holiday. I need to clean everything here.
This pileup of objects.

Now I need to find a phone number of a taxi-driver and ask him to bring me to the seaside. But I'm too lazy to do it. It means that I won't shoot today, will I? Yep, no photos for today.

The heat of the day is over. Now it's ten minutes to seven. It's hot from 12 till 4. There are a lot of people on the beach especially at this time. Some fatty ladies and men in saggy pants. As for me, if I keep on living as I do now, I will also have a fat belly in 10 years if not sooner.

So, here is my plan "B ": lose 20 kilos over the summer then to rouse myself and begin doing qigong or yoga CONSTANTLY, and not to miss classes at Rodchenko School. I have a feeling that when I return to Moscow this year I can finally be a freelancer (i.e. to do a commercial shooting for which good money is paid).

In my plans for this vacation: to read more books and to shoot better.

Oleg, our builder, has just come. And when he left I dropped my iPad. Now it a cracked screen, but it works as if it's new. When I come back to Moscow I will change the screen and in 10 years I will be an owner of an old iPad model. The house is almost built that's what I want to say.

Some repair works are left and we also need to build a fireplace and then it will be possible to live here.

/ / and then I talked to my mom on the phone and after that Dusya came in and brought fresh cow's milk / /

/ / now I'm with a broken iPad and a jar of milk / /

What is Primorskoye? It is a small village with a small population.

Once it was a camp (military?). Then a church was built and people began to settle around the church. The village is one kilometer from the sea. Along the coast there is a sandy beach and recreation camps, cafeterias and a market. During summer villagers work: go fishing or work in the fields (there are many fields, corn, sunflowers, wheat). Right next to my house there is a bakery which was built in the nineties, and now there is an MTS cell tower next to it, and in 150 meters there is a Kievstar cell tower. One summer when we were absolutely crazy and we were three, someone climbed on top of this cell tower and I took a picture of it.

So, some people go fishing and some work at the beach. Waitresses live in the village, builders and others live (work ) in recreation camps. Between the village and the resort there is one kilometer of the steppe. You can collect mushrooms in the steppe in June. Before Muscovites came here mushrooms hadn't been collected. And now they are collected. And in winter no one works. Someone goes to Moscow to work and someone just drinks vodka.

What am I going to take pictures of in a place like this?

This is not so important. I guess it makes sense to write about what you shoot and to shoot about what you write about.

Writing photographers are highly appreciated!

About photography.

In the past we took one picture and gave it a name. But now it is an era of a digital technology, it seems that the process is simplified.

Now you don't need a darkroom. One took a picture and photoshoped it (Razhden says that postprocessing is as important as taking the picture). Now it takes less time. To make it short, everyone (including myself) has gone so fucking crazy about computers that a sheet of photo paper in a cuvette with a negative developer is no
longer interesting. There are so many fucking people with cameras, more than ever, but I believe that there are as many photographers as there were before. And the best photographers are either already retired or already lying in their graves. Now a picture is not new in itself. It's the computer is new. It was invented recently. The computer is relevant. But perhaps an enlarger is a computer of the future without a digital system ( I think so). Maybe in the future there will be only dreams and we will be FUCKING TIRED of developing all of them. Or, has everything been already redeveloped? I have been going to Primosrskoye since the age of six. Then there was a break and when I came here again I had a camera. We threw stones at each other, played hide and seek, mock battles and gang-raped my Gameboy, killed giant spiders, pulling them out of their holes in the ground by woolen threads, stole corn cobs from the fields and asked Allka to show her pussy (though I was not involved in the latter).

Now I've got one friend left here, Dusya's son Sergey – Dusya is a woman who brings a jar of cow's milk every day. Sergey fishes in the lake, he has his own family - his wife and two kids. It is very, very beautiful here! The sky during the day and stars at night (so many stars!) There is also clean air from the sea.

I understand that it is difficult to write on a regular basis, as well as to shoot, but that's a different matter.

I want to say that those who called Pasha 183 a "Russian Banksy " - are assholes and I am a fucking Cartier-Bresson in this case (without a motherland), and I just don't give a fuck (they have got Leica, we have FED). It is clear that they had nothing bad on their minds, but Pasha was offended, and he was right, I should say.

Last night I did not get through to a taxi driver and walked to the beach.

When I go to the seaside with my mother I always get to the beach.

If I go there alone I get to «the bitch», not «the beach». It is a mile in total darkness along a dark street. But it does not matter.

I was carrying an iPhone, the first model that I use to listen to music, a wallet, a packey of cigarettes , two lighters and a key to my house. I was wearing sandals, blue shorts, a blue T-shirt and a new Rip Curl cap (I was looking for QuickSilver, but found Rip Curl - a new brand for me ).

/ / It's more difficult to write about my life without using the words "I" ," me "... / /

And, of course, I had Bessa on the neck and the second film in my pocket.

I decided not to go to the beach. Signs were examined: cafe " Piranha", PJ Hot Baby was performing in the "Colosseum" club. I wanted to find some company. But as usual I did not find anything, and that what I found I was not seeking, but at least I took pictures of it.

Overall, I wandered here and there, shot how people played table hockey, a cotton candy seller, and went to the disco club called "The 5th Element". Some years ago I heard someone say "suck" in that club instead of "speak up" and I remembered it for some reason.

The strange thing is that I never go to clubs in Moscow, and here I visit them from time to time, probably because they attract me by their simplicity, by numerous people wearing "Adidos", so to speak.

I take pictures of people, but I do it from the belt or offhand.

I'm haunted by the feeling that it's forbidden to take pictures, just the feeling. This is a style of shooting.

So, in the club my eyes focused on two women of approximately the same build drinking some cocktails. I would not approach to them, but one of them was wearing a green mini-skirt of some decent fabric. I finally came up to them after changing my mind thirty one times as it usually happens in clubs with those dudes who like alternative metal music, not Timothy or Dj Fuck.

Well, they let me take a picture on their own camera, but said no to my tequila. When I was going home I was thinking that I should learn to make scenario shots with the help of «350 Best Poses for a Photograph», and then it would be easier to get acquainted with people. Knowing certain scenarios greatly simplifies the whole process and helps me, not unlike my dissidence pills. So I didn't get acquainted with anyone, drank some fucking cocktail, took a bottle of mineral water, and went to the beach.

There I meditated and realized that to practice meditation it isn't necessary to be the most enlightened man in the world. I pissed in bushes and it seemed that a half of all holidaymakers did it with me in the same place (I will not stand if I didn't start first), drank mineral water and went back. I entered a cafe, ordered some food and, made sure that there was a coffee machine, a cup of espresso.

Then I wanted more and ordered cappuccino. The cup was brought.

There was some powder on the top. I thought it was cinnamon or some awesome spice. Took a sip. It appeared to be instant coffee. I asked the waitress why it was instant. She answered that I asked for a cappuccino. Okay, I thought. I was eating cutlet when I saw something in a napkin. I revealed it, there was a crust of bread. I asked the waitress: "Did you bring me a yakuza finger? " "It is for decoration." Bzzz. My mood was spoiled a bit and I went home. On the way home I thought that "The 5th Element" could be called "the 5th alimony."

While I was writing the day has broken. Just like in the song "Ain't Easy" of Cypress Hill.

Today the text is not long. I slept till evening, woke up, ate borsch and fell asleep, woke up again and now after midnight - I'm writing.

Today I want to say that writing a diary and publishing it and not to publishing it are two different things. When you write and leave everything for yourself it is one thing and when you write for everyone it is quite a different matter. It just happened, that I decided this time ( I write diaries periodically) to publish, so I think if don't let anyone read what you've written you stay honest with yourself, but maybe when you do let others read you describe some interesting details to make it more interesting to read. There is no difference, but now it's the 21st century and everyone has gone crazy, I mean those who write on Facebook answering the question "What are you thinking about ? " or something like that, they are more likely Americans. You can write in Word and apparently everyone is going mad because of underlining words, or just open a notepad and write in it. It was awesome in the 90s before the release of Windows- 95.

A computer was a computer and the speaker Lexicon squeaked terribly when it found an error in the text. It is possible to write consistently leaving it for yourself or to write for the Web, switching off the commentary. It often happens that one person writes a post but a totally different person responds to comments. On Thursday or Friday my friends from Saint-Peterbourg are coming to Primorskoye.

Nothing happens.

It seems to me that yesterday I was sleeping the whole day, the whole night. I found the keys to the door of my house which I had lost. Yesterday I let myself drink a bottle of beer, I felt fine, but then I did not want to do anything. I drank one bottle alone and another one with a neighbor – a local bandit - he promised not to burgle me.

Photography has a very pleasant feature (it would seem to be quite pointless but every time after shooting there is a very pleasant feeling, as if everything is fine and it's as it should be). Today I was woken by my neighbor Natasha, we left a big piece of pork to defrost.

At night someone came, a cat or some other animal, and it gnawed the meat, I shooed it and put the meat into the refrigerator (not the freezer). Then I had breakfast, finished a quest on my iPad, took a taxi and went to a wild beach where there is a lighthouse. There I turned on a camera mode "none of your business what I shoot " and went along the coast towards the central beach. Sometimes while I'm shooting everyone seems to be watches at me. And I do not think this is real. I overcame this problem this way: I stopped and sat down on the sand and made a few calls. And I merged, so to speak, with holidaymakers.

Immediately I found a job. Woman with three children asked me to shoot on her camera and promised me150 hryvnas per hour at an appointed time. We came to 50 hryvnas for a 10 minutes photo session. I took pictures of them (and on my camera as well) and got the money.

The shoot took me two hours. I shot almost two films (the fourth and the fifth ). I bought tomatoes and bryndza for a salad in the market.

Now I'm sitting in a cafe, waiting for my food (they turned on some awful music ), that's all for today.

Last night I went to the village with a digital Canon camera. Somewhere in the village I decided to take some wine and in the backyard of a man who sells wine I took a picture of an alcoholic. During 40 minutes I made 22 shots, then came back and played Hector Ep.3. Then I went to bed. Today I woke up when the heat had already died out. I took a digital Canon camera (I decided to shoot film on the beach, but use the digital camera for the village) and went outside. The street was deserted. An old woman occasionally cycled past me or a builder went be by car. My legs brought me to the church - our friends live next to it, it seems they are out of Dnepropetrovsk. The woman whose name I forgot told me how she shot her mother's funeral on FED and on the pictures a glow emanated from the coffin, and there was no body visible in it. She made me some green tea and a sandwich with butter, I photographed her gestures of showing the glow from the coffin, then took a picture of an apple tree in the yard and went home. At home, I grabbed all the dishes which had been accumulating for a few days, brought two buckets of water and washed them all. I began to do the next quest- Hollywood Monsters. It seems to me it's of the year 199- something, but now it's on iPad. In the evening, I took the camera and went to the village again.

I took a picture of a beautiful cat and made a portrait of a goat. Now I'm going to drink up the milk and move on with the beer.

Today I woke up totally wasted. I had woken up several times in the very early morning, then in the morning and I finally woke up in the afternoon. But my soul had left somewhere and returned only in the evening not long before the arrival of Kirill, Mary and Sergey. Neither coffee, nor an attempt to occupy myself with reading, eating; nor a computer game - all these led to nothing. I remained an elite real estate and a peaceful atom. Because of my friends' visit I moved to the second floor of our house which is under reconstruction. There are wooden floor and cemented walls, the house is still being built but the building process could me be much longer. My friends stayed in an old subsided house of hand-formed bricks. Two or three times we were burgled, but with the help of God I hope it will not happen again. Once I came here with my family and found a flock of sheep in the back of the room. When I shooed them, one nearly fell into the well. Then we decided to leave the house for the autumn-winter-spring to some people, just to make sure it wouldn't be burgled, now in the season of "not- summer " the house is empty, but it is being watched. Some ideas have appeared: we can shoot how bread is baked at the bakery or we can climb the lighthouse and shoot the views of the village, I can imagine what we can see from there, and it must be interesting. Oh, and another option is to go, or it's better to say to sail to the lake with fishermen and shoot how they catch fish.

My friends came (they went from St. Petersburg by stuffy buses as there were no train tickets), left their things at home and we went to the beach. It was already dark, so I took a flashlight. I decided not to take the camera. Where the hell will I take my Canon with a flash this time? We swam, each of us drank a glass of house wine, then we were attacked by mosquitoes and went to eat in the cafe. We were driven back home by some dude. Now they are probably all asleep, and I think I should go to sleep too.

Yesterday I finally went to bed and woke up at 3 p.m. Sergey made some divine sandwiches for breakfast. Milk and eggs are mixed, bread is moistened and fried, you can put some bryndza and a slice of tomato on top. Simple and delicious!

Maria, Kirill had already gone to the beach and Sergey waited for me.

We called a cab and got to the beach for 20 hryvnas. It's difficult to describe what happened next: I went into the water, dived, swam a bit, returned to the shore and went to shoot. I shot one film and was very tired.

We sunbathed a bit, bought some things in the market: coal, tin foil; and a fat guy gave us a lift. Today there is no inspiration to describe and write about anything in detail because I feel very well. We had a very nice barbecue, invited our neighbor Gourgen and we were sitting in the yard, drinking wine and talking for several hours. Now I am at home on the second floor neither drunk nor sober, listening to The Knife and smoking cigarettes. I'm just ashamed of myself and my life which seems to me is only just beginning.

I'm not feeling well. The day before yesterday I had been doing strange asanas until morning. I was waving my arms in all directions, jumping and going crazy to music on my iPhone, and complaining about my life to the whole world, so maybe someone heard it. I went to the balcony and put a dining table on my head. I stood with the table on my head saying that I was Robocop just for fun.

Then at nine o'clock in the morning I went to make coffee and had cottage cheese for breakfast. Sergey woke me up to wash the dishes. That night we were eating shashlik and baked potatoes with a salad and talked for a long time. Gurgen came with a bottle of red wine but my previous entry was about that.

There were a lot of dishes.

After washing dishes I was switching off. I took my dissidence pills and crashed out till three or five p.m. My day was short. Maria and Kirill went to the seaside to celebrate their wedding anniversary in the evening.

Sergey was reading a book, and I took Kirill's MacBook and went to my room on the second floor to watch a movie with Uma Thurman - something about a wedding. I watched half of the movie and went to bed. I woke up as usual at three o'clock and barely remember what happened today, I mean yesterday. I had breakfast at lunchtime, then the guys started to boil corn cobs. Sergey and I went to the village to buy vegetables and ice cream for dinner. Maria and Kirill set their sights on buying a house here in Primorskoye.

We went to look at houses all evening long.

The guys went to the beach and I went home because felt bad (and I'm still feeling bad). Somewhere along the way they bought bryndza from someone and returned home. I made a vegetable salad with bryndza, Sergey fried cabbage (while Mary and Kirill were looking at houses). We gathered, dined and sat down to play Imaginarium on the second floor where I threw a mattress and a cap. In the game I came fourth and last and Kirill won.

In the morning my friends are going to go to Vilkovo to get some meat and fish and I'll do something and then I'll go to sleep.

I think my sickness of the last two or three days is due to the fact that I woke up with a flu-like condition: stuffy nose, sore throat and headache.

A few days ago I woke up in fever. I had a sore throat, a headache, a running nose. I was watching my white body trying to roll with difficulty from one side to another. I got up in the morning, remembering in disbelief my "night-asanas-of-white-ninja " (white ninjas are the strongest because they have a good sense of humour) and went to tell my friends that I was ill and exhausted. And they treated me for two or three days, made vitamin cocktails, bought drugs, forced to gargle, drove to a village hospital where a doctor said that I had angina and prescribed injections. The temperature fell rapidly from 40 to 39 and then to 37. I seldom get ill and if I do it doesn't last long. I got ill only at school because it was very difficult to take me from one world to another at 7.30 a.m. every morning and go by metro with all those assholes; and I could play with a game console while my mother was absent.

While I was ill, I moved to an old house because it's hard for a sick man with only one mattress on the second floor. We switched places with Sergey. Thank you, Sergey a lot for your support during those two difficult days! I'll listen to The Knife in our honour a hundred times.

Yesterday we walked together along the beach.

I see and shoot the beach from different perspectives as it's taught in journalism. I also shoot when the heat dies out and the sea and clouds acquire a bloody awesome texture and mix of clours. Everything sparkles and plays, and ALL THE PEOPLE ARE GOING AWAY.

My friends are leaving: someone is going back to St.Petersbourg tomorrow ( Monday) and someone is going to Yalta. Mary and Kirill have chosen a nice house not far from mine and they are thinking about buying it. And today, they are going to an excursion to the river Danube. They will see all the sights, eat well and go back to Primorskoye. And I will not go there. There's great, but I've been there thousands of times, and I'd better stay home after my illness.

I'm going to see them off and continue shooting. There are 40 films left (and there is a lot of space on the memory card).

Yesterday in the morning I accompanied my friends to the bus station, got back home, went to bed and slept till around midnight. I woke up, fried croutons (but I failed).
Today I have to admit that I'm a fatso. I have finally recovered from a sore throat, for the rest of things I'm terminally sick. I lost my interest to the description of what kind of clothes I wear, how many cups of coffee I drink and why am I so unlucky with women. And nothing interesting has come to me in their place. Probably because I write and publish all these thoughts on Facebook instead of hiding them on my hard disk. Well, I spent half my money and now, perhaps, I need to save.

In the last two days I went to the beach, shot about three films (about 15 in total) Today I visited Vitya, a doctor from Odessa, and he beat me at chess. We play here every year when his vacation coincides with mine. I've dropped my iPad again. Now its screen is all in cracks; and then I generously spilt Red Bull on it. When I become
a great artist I'll sell my first iPad for one hundred million dollars. I have nothing more to say. Thank you for your attention!
Today I've asked Natasha to cook borsch. Natasha said that she would cook the next day. Then I ate cottage cheese with «nothing» and began to read Susan Sontag's diaries. Then I was bitten by a wrong mosquito and turned into a terrible zombie, and went to the store " for a meal ". I bought 3 packs of Ukrainian Doshirak and 5 liters of water. I've eaten all packs of Doshirak. Now I'm lying, listening to music (some kind of trance) and reading the diaries of Susan. I tried to do the quest Hollywood Monsters, but it wasn't interesting.

I made tea. I am somewhere beyond tranquility.
Nothing happens. For today I've eaten five or six plates of borsch and drunk three cups of coffee. I took out the trash and washed the dishes at eleven p.m. I filled the well with water.

The whole day I have been at home. I read a little bit, played a little bit. My father during his life believed that if he did not do anything during a day then that day became useless. Today I'm having a day just like that. There is an excuse of course: I was ill and I'm weak now. I don't measure the temperature, but I know that it is not higher than 36.

I can take a shower and go to the 5th alimony, but I don't want to waste my money and health. The club means that I will be drunk and most likely alone. And there is nobody to protect me from homosexual advances.

Probably I need a plan for tomorrow and to write down here and now that I must wake up, have breakfast and go (or drive) to the seaside, shoot at least three films. There is no some special magic on the beach like it was last year or two or three years ago. Everything is ordinary and boring. There are no available girls. Mothers with their children swim and sunbathe and, damn it, they are quite old.

There is no particular concept. I decided to shoot as "a man and the beach" or as "a man and the sea" and so I do it. It is trite to stupidity and I don't understand why I shoot it but maybe it's for the better.

Probably I need to develop somehow. Now I will add a blog entry and go to the bakery to find out whether I can shoot there. I'm planning to climb the lighthouse and make a couple of landscapes as well. There is no coffee left. The cafe on the beach serves some poison (and food too). I drink ground Jacobs that was bought here. I have a half a block of cigarettes.

I guess I'll be happy when one day I wake up and discover someone's bra on the floor. Maybe then everything will make sense. I'm not a sultan, I do not need 50 wives. One girl is enough. Here in Promorskoye across the courtyard Natasha lives with her two sons 100% Armenian - Aryan, one of them, Gurgen, every night is out "in the camp" and, as I understand, every day he sleeps with a new girlfriend. Unfortunately or fortunately I can't do it like him and don't want to.

In Moscow I do not go to clubs for the reason that I do not take drugs (my dissidence pills don't count) and I drink alcohol in small amounts (because of my dissidence pills).It's a different thing that you can go to concerts, but I don't want to waste my money and time. It sounds like an excuse, of course. It's better to listen to your favorite mp3 files...

After returning to Moscow I really want to continue to do yoga or qigong, maybe I also add the pool to the list. The point is that you have to be disciplined, and if the classes are twice a week, then you need to go to these classes twice a week. And I do not always succeed.
Today, at two o'clock in the morning I went to the bakery and was chased out by some women who worked there. But I saw fresh bread.

One story happened with me in Primorskoe. I was seven or eight years old, I was in the shop with my mother and I don't remember why I said that bread «isn't tasty» or «bad» in Primorskoye, I do not remember the exact wording. And someone heard it. There was no bakery here at the time. A few days later my mother sent me to the store to buy some bread. There was a long queue and I honestly stood in it three times maybe. When it was my turn to take a loaf of bread, I was pushed aside by some blokes from the queue without an explanation. And I returned home without bread.

I returned home from the bakery and miraculously fell asleep. The day began yesterday at half past twelve. The whole day and the whole evening were agony.

I woke up at two o'clock today. I visited my Facebook page, made coffee then took a shower and called Vitaly, he drove me to the beach. I asked him whether there were ways to climb the lighthouse and to shoot from there. I went up to the lighthouse, it was fenced with barbed wire, the stairs were very narrow and I didn't not know I could get through. Anyway, Vitaly promised me to contact with a lighthouse keeper, maybe I'll get a permission and shoot a couple of landscapes from above.

Then I slowly began to move from the lighthouse towards the central beach. I stopped on the road and took pictures. I shot four films and was very tired. There are a lot of good shots. I was unlucky to meet some bandits, they told me to get lost and I was able to get away without any problems.

Someday I'll try to describe the process of shooting.

When I finished with shooting I entered the cafe, ordered a cup of coffee and a chop with mashed potatoes. I ate and then discovered where I could buy meat for shashlik. It turned out to be that meat costs 70 hryvnas per kg, which is about 300 rubles.

Before I went home, I decided to go to the 5th Element and talked to the manager about a job. We agreed that I would come at 11 p.m. to take pictures. Who knows, maybe I'll get some money. Now it is much easier to present myself. I have an awesome camera, and I just say that I have been shooting professionally for 10 years.

They respect it.

On my way home I bought bryndza and planned another shootingsession, something like indoor portraits.

And now I'm home. I'm drinking tea with mango and finishing this text.

Good luck to me with a night shooting today!
As agreed, at 11 p.m. I was in a small club. MC announced that there would be a paparazzi in the club and he would shoot everyone.

Ira (the manager) asked not to shoot louts and shirtless people, but
to shoot charming people and people dressed in white. I was thinking all night long how much I would get, how I would download the pictures and how long I would shoot. I was thinking against my will. When you do a commercial photography, this mechanism is activated: "Maybe I can get them to pay me more? And what if they pay little?" I cannot do anything with myself, I have to think of it.

It takes me a very long time to set up the camera and the flash. Although there were classes at Rodchenko school about shooting with an external flash I have very little experience. The flash recharges very long, and you have to take a break between shots.

Finally, everything was set up and I took about 350 pictures that night. It's good when the flash hits the ceiling or a wall, it's bad when it's in a default position - it's not interesting but quite suitable for ordinary visitors' portraits. In the midst of shooting batteries were gone and I went to look for the new ones. I found some for 2.5 hryvnas.

I met and shot the club's owners. Two men from Kiliya (a town within an hour's drive of Primorskoye).

Around two o'clock in the morning I was very tired and just leaned against a pillar. At around half past three Ira told me that it was all for that day.

We agreed that I would come on Tuesday and give them the photos.

I said goodbye, ate a hellish kebab ( it was already falling apart ) and went home. There I visited my Facebook page and went to bed at seven o'clock and had been sleeping till five.

I called Vitya (the doctor). I got some rash on the legs. Victor advised some alcohol. I cooked scrambled eggs with tomatoes and bryndza, watered the flowers in the yard, took a shower, drank coffee and wrote this note.
Today I have absolutely nothing to say. I did not sleep the whole night. I fell asleep at 7 a.m. and slept until 5 p.m. as yesterday. Because of that night shooting my sleeping pattern has deteriorated.

I overcame myself to manage to do something today. I packed a bag and walked towards the sea. When I came it was already dark.

I ate a chicken Kiev, drank espresso and shot one film. It seems to me that I got only one shot - a portrait of a man who sells tokens for rides, the cashier, that is.

Very little light. I had to come there at least an hour or two hours earlier. Not productive, but I managed to wind down. I was reading a book "Billionaire" from a promoted "Ethnogenesis" series ; and listening to music, doing the quest the whole night.

I tried to read other books but I failed. It's too difficult for me now. I began to understand why even intelligent people begin to read Alexandra Marinina at some point.

I bought some food for a few days and a kilo of meat - for Diana and Masha's arrival - we will have shashlik.
I feel like shit.

Every day it's better and better, but worse at the same time. Perhaps, when I return back to Moscow I'll go to the hospital for two weeks again because I do not want to pray and I want to do asanas only when I'm drunk. I listen to loud music and manage my time unproductively.

I don't see any sense in photography and in life in general.

Periodically some fucking idea flashes upon me. I can see the whole starry sky, a rarefied atmosphere or that the Earth is round.

People resemble ants. I'm deaf, I have a weak sight and craniotrypesis like Frankenstein. I have a sunstroke. I'm sad and lonely! I'm bored and there is nothing to do! I have some sense when I go to work, but then I feel bad for several days. This "up and down" mix has already made me mad. They say that life is hard for those who fall in love easily and make others laugh, and I was very funny and amorous.

On the positive side – I took pictures at a local club once a week, and I will be paid some money. On the negative side- I spend a lot of money on Pepsi-Cola or things like that.

Under communism there were only Pepsi-Cola and Doshirak in these kiosks. There was a three-hour queue to McDonald's. According to Pelevin, it means that they could also stand for Doshirak or they just had some manure, for example, because it was useful (they could explain it). On the other hand we have been in space for half a century, invented computers, cars.

My Bessa is more expensive!
Trichotomy of the spine!

Sex sex sex!


It is the third or the fourth day when I sleep during the day and awake at night. Yesterday I went to sleep at ten o'clock in the morning and slept right up to nine in the evening. I've got enough sleep and I'm more or less alive and kicking.

I had breakfast, drank coffee and went to the club to prepare photos for publication on Vkontakte. Two or three hours I was photoshopping them, inserting logos. And I was not paid, of course. They told me that they would pay the same day. Ira ( the manager) was absent, and nobody wanted to wake her up.

In general, I went crazy half of the night and fell asleep this morning.

I took my pills and fell asleep.

I'm thinking: Will I go to sleep in the morning again or overcome myself and go shooting?

In my spare time I'm thinking how to beat Yemelianenko. I can sink my teeth into his trachea! No other options have been thought of yet.
It's time to write some more crap about my life. This is crap number 21 which means that about two of three days I write something about this and that here, in Primorskoye.

Nothing has changed during this time. Nothing else matters (everyday for us something new).

I was paid for the first shooting in the club. Not as much as it was agreed, in fact six times less the agreed amount, because there was something that I hadn't finished.

Henceforth they must pay as much as we agreed.

Now there's a problem. That fucking force that usually makes me go out to shoot black and white partially evaporated somewhere.

Yes, and I began to shoot less. I shot guys from the camp who were therapeuticly mudded. But something doesn't seem enough. As if the shooting was over, although I didn't even shoot half the films.

In a month I have to go back to my homeland. I have got plans to talk to the doctors and maybe go to Guslitsa (Korney Bruskov invited me). More than that, it's my birthday in the 10th of September. I can't miss the opportunity to congratulate myself and to accept congratulations from my friends and relatives. Damn, I'm 29 years old!

And my occlimatization (is this spelling correct?) has just been completed, a month later. Now I feel at home here and I miss Moscow and mad Kolyanych, bongos seller, Roma who is not less crazy - he will make an artist from you in 24 hours - for the money, Mariam and Olya, and Gosha, the Rodchenko school (students and teachers), my iMac and high speed Internet. In Moscow you wish to be at the seaside, at the seaside it seems that it's better to be in Moscow.

The sea will be with me for about half a year. Then I 'll get a cold and will again be afraid of policemen and those iron monsters on wheels. I will go crazy because of the subway and fight against passions.

Yesterday I cooked meat with Gourgen. While it was defrosting we were outside and my neighbor's cat came and dragged a piece of meat. We caught it and took back the meat. Today I was digging pits in Natasha's yard. I was working for food.

I smoke a packet of cigarettes and drink coffee and a liter of goat's milk every day.

In a half an hour I'll go to the club to shoot and tomorrow I'll write something about my life again.
I'll continue from where I've finished.

On Saturday night I went to shoot at the club. The club celebrated its birthday and a lot of people came there. I shot from 1 a.m. till 3.30 a.m. I was totally shocked about what was happening there.

I took 700 pictures. I had to make photos for publication immediately but I only managed to download them on the laptop. The club was already closed. I shot a young group of people who were drugged-out and were going bananas over the foam and a PJ girl was dancing in the background. In general, this shooting is better than the first one. I decided not to take a taxi and at my own risk went home in the dark. I heard: "We can arrange it for you " - And a moment later I fell into a puddle. It did not hurt me, but I got dirty.

Yesterday I woke up late in the afternoon. Gurgen and Vika dropped in (he met her here, she is from Izmael, and a few days later Gurgen is going to take her to Moscow). We went to a wild - wild beach.

We swam a bit. Gurgen went to catch shrimps with a net, and I shot Vika. We got acquainted with tourists, the people who were 30 meters away from us. We talked about something, gave them cigarettes and they gave us beer and a snack. I caught shrimps too. Gurgen caught little, but they were big, and I caught a lot, but they were small. We decided to give shrimps to our new friends. Then we sunbathed, packed up and went to the village. I read a book about the billionaire Andrey Gumilev and went to bed early.

Today I thought I woke up late, but it was only 11 o'clock in the morning. I helped Gurgen to carry two gas cylinders into the car and gave Natasha my clothes to wash. In an hour Gurgen, Vika and I went to the beach to the bus stop to see Vika off to Izmail. Gourgen has a luxury car just like the police officer's car in Kill Bill. I decided not to wait till their departure and went to the club. I spend two hours there selecting photos and preparing them for publication on the web. We agreed that I would come to take my money in the evening. I ate a chop with mashed potatoes (selected from a very limited menu) and went to the beach to shoot film for myself. That fucking force finally returned but I didn't find a lot of subjects. I went to the main beach to the lighthouse and I shot one film on the way. I bought a bottle of beer there and sat on the sand, read Susan Sontag's diaries. Then I drank beer and went back. I shot another film. I shot an unfamiliar Gipsy - she was selling watermelons. She suddenly called me by name «Vanyusha». I bought some pills and soap powder to settle somehow with Natasha for the days that I had been ill and for my clean clothes.

I finally turned on the music on my player and went home. When I came back I wrote this text. It seems to be just a dry set of facts, maybe photos will be more interesting.

Everything is very beautiful here, if you come to the right place at the right time.

I'll become immortal when I eat 150.000 sandwiches.
EPT Barcelona!

I still have this habit. I wake up and fall asleep at night, then wake up and fall asleep early in the morning. I can get up late in the morning but I go to sleep. I wake up at 1.30. p.m. and think about how much time is wasted and I get up. When I'm finally awake I do something during the day. I'm completely awake and already tired at nine o'clock in the evening and it's time to go to bed. It happens almost every day. I'm a lazy pig (instead of waking up and doing exercises as Elvis Presley always did).

I'm already fucking tired with this billionaire and I've begun to read his third book about himself. When I finish reading it I'll read something clever, but my vacation is coming to an end. There is a book on my iPad called "Problems of Posing ". I think it will be the next one. I will learn a lot about what I do not know yet.

I've digged a pit in Natasha's yard, and I was rewarded with rice and beans (very tasty). Gurgen went to the dentist (in the village!damn!), he pulled out extra teeth and now, after anesthesia he's afraid of speaking. He says one half of his head is frozen.

It's terrible that I know Russian. Mom says I have an innate literacy. It was easy at primary school. I did the tasks in autopilot mode and usually got A or B. Later I got B or C. All those participle clauses and verbal adverb phrases are the last things that I remember.

That's it. Before going to school I had lessons with a teacher from school. She taught me Russian and Math. I remember how I was struck by universal wisdom when I was able to solve the problem "Vasya had three apples, and Vanya twice as many". I don't remember anything else from that period. My uncle sent me Parkers from England, but someone stole them. I had three or four different handwritings (Chacka, bring my Parkers back ! I hate you, Fasinda!). Or another story of how I forgot Physics (which I knew perfectly well) while reading the first paragraph and beginning to read the second one at the first lesson at the beginning of the year.

In the evening it was still light and I went to have a look at the house under construction. I'll take pictures and publish them when I return to Moscow. I stood on what would be the future balcony and thought that " when I have got a woman " and "a goal in life" maybe I would live here in autumn and in spring, and in summer, and maybe even in winter (until I have not got a girl, and I'm "crazy with tranquilizers").

When I returned home I called Mary (we talked). I watched a DVD which Maria had left (I always do that). Three short films of a littleknown director Aramisova from the Czech Republic. I did not understand what they were about, but it does not matter.

Then I became hungry. I cut potatoes and onion and threw everything into the pan. I cracked the eggs into the pan as well and ate. I saw some snakes climbing from the food. I must begin to cook myself. I buy burgers and doner kebabs - it's not right.

That's all for today.
Today nothing has happened at all.

I woke up, drank coffee, visited my Facebook page and, I do not remember why, went only in shorts to Natasha and Gourgen. Vika and her parents were there. Gurgen asked me to put something on top and to come with a camera to shoot them. I didn't mind. I wore a T-shirt and went to the store - shtore. I bought candies, bread, three kilos of potatoes, two packs of juice, a pack of coffee, a pack of chips, ice cream, cigarettes, a sausage and a five liters of drinking water. I spent a lot of money. Damn. I brought everything into the house, took my camera and went to shoot. I took a dozen of pictures.

Vicka's father gave me a fish he caught. When I was going to leave Gurgen persuaded me to go to the seaside with them, but I did not want to.

I went home. At home, I ate a couple of sandwiches and went to play poker. I played away. I ate chips, made coffee and drank it outside. I downloaded a new game on iPad. It's terribly blockish. I started playing it. It's called the Clash of Clans.

Diana has written to me. She will come to me soon. With a friend. And just for two days. I thought I'd suggest keeping them company in Odessa but I didn't do it.

It's already dark here. I read a book about a billionaire (in this book Nazis live in the Arctic and rule a half of the world. Funny). There is some music in my headphones. I went outside, walked under the stars, and thought about my life. Then I took a shower and wrote down this text.

Only now I've realized that I wanted neither chips nor sandwiches. I'm just acting like a robot already. Somebody send me a program for cleaning and washing dishes. I must wake up early tomorrow and go shooting.
Oh, what a night it was! Of course I remember nothing from how it was, it is always forgotten. If I could describe my dreams and a shooting process... but it's almost impossible. Dreams are forgotten, shooting can't be remembered.

The first half of the night I was reading about a billionaire and played Clash of Clans. Then I was walking with my player in the yard under the stars. I don't remember what happened next. I remember that I swore a lot, read translations of songs, said some clever and stupid things and thought about it all. In the morning I did asanas and stretching and went to bed. I woke up just today in the afternoon. I finally washed dishes. Tomorrow I'll buy some meat and maybe I'll shoot on the beach, and during the night from Saturday to Sunday I'll shoot the club.

Today I have had a dream that I was shooting Koudelka's movie in a hall like a small cinema, and it was my movie as well. People were sitting and watching the movie there. And I was documenting the process of watching.

Battery power ran out, I pulled out one battery (camera operates on four AA batteries), a girl gave me an Energizer battery. I inserted the battery but then I pulled it out and looked if there were two buttons on it. You could check the charge by clicking on them. Some sticky liquid splashed from the battery and fell on my face. I went through the door of the cinema and found myself in the hall of the apartment on Vavilov street in Moscow (I live there). I went to the bathroom, washed my face and rinsed the mouth. I looked in the mirror and saw some foam was coming from my mouth. I thought: " It's like cappuccino ". Then I entered the room where my grandmother had lived before, and now I live. Everything was like when my grandmother was alive. There was an old lady there. She was sitting on a bed and watching television. She looked at me and said ironically:

"Well, what suckers you have brought here "

/ / actually in the cinema there was some film festival / /

I turned my head to the left (where the cinema was) and asked :
"Those?" The old woman was silent.

Then I woke up.

Today I'm going to the club to shoot.
It seems to me it happened the day before yesterday. I got to the club with difficulty at night because I felt sick. I ate a piece of meat with cheese and rice, and I felt better.

I came early. Nastya, a bartender, made me a cup of coffee. Hail Jay ( the world still has some free coffee! ) I drank my coffee and started to shoot. I felt good at the beginning of shooting. I became much more confident in dealing with a flash. I was shooting for hours.

When I finished I saw a message from Diana. They were already in Odessa and the next day (i.e. yesterday) they were going to come to me. I called her and we talked.

I went to look for a car. I found none. Then I went to a cafe, ordered okroshka, a blueberry milkshake («to go») and hachapuri with suluguni cheese and chicken, forgive me, Lord. They brought me my order. Okroshka turned out to be with kefir diluted with water and ice, and pieces of sausage were swimming in it. The cocktail wasn't tasty. I paid and went home. I threw hachapuri away not having finished. I came home and went to bed.

At about 4 p.m. Diana woke me up by her phone call. They're in a bus and in a minute they were going to depart. I called Ira, a club manager, and said that my friends were coming to me for two days, and, if it was possible, I would come the day after tomorrow and prepare photos for publication in the Web. Ira was upset a bit, but she said, «Ok!».

I made a plan for the day, drank some coffee, watered flowers and lawn, and went to the seaside to get some meat and coal. I bought strawberries, onion, coal, tomatoes and a liquid for lighting fire. A woman helped with meat in the market. The pig was slaughtered opposite the bus stop where Masha and Diana came. I met the girls, we went to take the meat. Then we made a detour and took two liters of wine, came home, drank coffee and ate strawberries. We threw things. I butchered and pickled the meat with salt and pepper. Diana and Mary cut onions and prepared potatoes to bake.

We changed our clothes and went to seaside in the dark. We took pictures there and drank cider.

I had been a little tired by the time when we were going home. The taxi driver was not there and we went on foot. We carried a lantern. When we came home we began laying the table. We lighted up coal and put potatoes on it, skewered the meat. I did shashlik for the first time in my life.

At the table we listened to Eminem and talked, then ate. I gave bed linen to Diana and Masha, now we're going to sleep.
At 10 a.m. I saw Diana and Masha off to the bus, which is taking
them to Odessa now. Diana and Mary were here only for two days. They liked it very much. Diana says that here in Primorskoe you need to come with big group and probably live here - what else can I say?

The girls left and now I cannot come to my senses. I'm almost on fours again almost crawling on the floor, or another way: as if I have a fever which I don't have, fever and cough, which I don't have. I watched the beginning of "All About My Mother " by Almodovar. Maybe I should sell a kidney and go to Las Vegas ? When you receive or spend a lot of money you usually remember what happens. And it turns out to be an interesting history which will get 22 «likes» an 1 comment on FB. I have a bad memory, I remember almost nothing. A year and a half ago before the bedtime I was speaking out loud about everything I had experienced during the day. Now I'm writing it on my iPad and publishing it on my FB page. I planned to go to the club today to photoshop the photos and to prepare them for publication in the web. If I manage to get myself together, maybe I'll go and shoot one or two films. Or I won't shoot. My older brother Andrew is an astrologer. Maybe I'm waiting for the right time ( by the stars and the movement of the river) for shooting (and it does not happen every day). We're crazy, aren't we? ( Is it an excuse?).

Yesterday we had a good time. I've already forgotten everything, but I will try to remember. It seems to be like this. Diana and Mary woke up at about 11.30 a.m., and I woke up at 12.30 p.m. Diana was sitting on rattan chair at the rattan table and drinking coffee in the shade. I brushed my teeth and made some coffee right in the cup but not in a French press. Now the three of us were sitting in the shade. It was very hot and we decided to wait until the heat died out and went to the seaside. I do not like walking, I take care of my legs. But sometimes it happens that I can walk through the whole of Moscow in several hours. But it does not often happen. I'm known as a man who walks a lot. As a role model - Alex Webb's words that he goes to the place of shooting on foot. This is the one thing that I remember. During the workshop of Webb and his wife Rebecca, Alex's legs were half-bent (because he's the master?)

I took a piece of meat out of the freezer and put it in the water to defrost. The heat died out and at 4 p.m. we went to the beach. What had we been doing until three o'clock when it was hot? We drank Kolya's Puer tea, watched a DVD with short films by Czech director Aramisova. Ira came (an ex-girlfriend of Gourgen ) and invited us to Natasha's house- it was her birthday. I thought it is today on the thirteenth of August, and it turned out to be that it was yesterday. We promised to come in the evening.

There were several alternatives. We could go to a wild - wild beach ( it's pretty far and it's impossible get there on foot). We could go on to a wild beach where the lighthouse is. I couldn't get the taxi driver on the phone and we went to the central beach. We bought peaches, three bottles of cider and water in the market. We swam in turns (someone had to look after the things ). I shot a lot. What I didn't shoot: I was waist-deep, and from one side there was a mattress with a woman who was lying on her back and her child was sitting on her and from another side I could see the legs of that woman's husband sticking out of the water.

At about 7p.m. we packed up , threw away the garbage (peaches were eaten, cider was drunk) and went to eat. We all ordered salad. For the main course I had meat and the girls had fish. We drank coffee, paid and left. We didn't play Imaginarium.

I bought coffee and a gift (candies) for Natasha. Diana and Masha bought us ice cream and Turkish delight for dessert. I found a taxi driver and we drove home. I cut three white roses, took the candies and went to congratulate Natasha with her birthday. All guests, except Dusya, left. We swigged off two glasses (I drank cognac Black Stork, there is also cognac White Stork , what's the difference?).We drank to the host. Natasha said then that my mother is a hero, and drank to her. Natasha put on my plate some food: lobio, dalma ,and something else. I said goodbye and left.

I made Chinese tea at home and we watched a Hollywood biopic about a famous musician (by Kevin Spacey who was also the main hero) who died at the age of 37. Then I went to my room and we went to bed. There was no water in the shower, so I douched five times. It seems to me I didn't have any dreams that night.

We had eggs for breakfast. Now I'm finishing this entry and listening to Cypress Hill, waiting for the water. I need to fill the tank, wash off salt and water the lawn and flowers.
I do not like doing housework: to clean and to wash dishes. I guess nobody does. But for me it is especially hard. As a child I did not like to tidy my room by collecting the toys off the floor, so now I clean the room only if it is absolutely necessary. Now I have a coffee break here, then I'll take my linen to the neighbors to wash, then I'll collect the trash and wash the dishes. Because tomorrow my mom is coming on her Nissan. She is about 60, I guess, and she's going by car from Moscow to Odessa. last night I went to the club, shot and photoshoped photos for publication.

I shot one film, bought a jar of honey. I feel disgusting. I slept till 1 p.m., watered flowers and the lawn. I wonder what will happen after this life?

In my childhood and youth I studied extremely hard. I learned German. A teacher came to me from some school. Three times a week for half an hour. After one of the classes, I was so tired that my eye swelled. I told my mother that I couldn't do it any more.

Valentina Vasilyevna came to teach me Russian and Math before I came went to school. For that reason, early school years were easy.

Veronica came when I was four and I taught me English. At the age of 3.5 I learned to read the names of cars. I had about 13 teachers of English: before school, at schools (I've changed three) at the institute, at college, plus private teachers. I know English, but not well. My cousins Sasha and Kirill lived in England for several years and when they returned to Moscow both graduated from MSU, the faculty of foreign languages. They really know this language. I can boast: Sasha played in the Chelsea football youth team.

Then for a year or three years I went I did swimming. I did not like to jump from the springboard and do all sorts of exercises. I adored exercises on the trampoline during the first part of the lesson in the hall, and then I swam on my back along the track during the second part of the lesson in the pool.

I went to swim in a group run by Christina Jakovlevna. She worked with refugees from Afghanistan and with me. We swam in the pool «Moscow», the place where The Cathedral of Christ the Saviour is now, then we moved to the Olympiyskiy stadium.

When I studied at school I did karate and ninja-zu.

But my real passion was tennis. For five years I went to the stadium "Avtomobilist" that was near our house and for an hour and a half I was swinging by the racket on the court. There was a time when I practiced with the younger group and threw balls. There was a time when I went with my cousins to play tennis to Yugo-Zapadnaya station.

All together five days a week. In the summer Jenya Kutsemilov and I went to the stadium, climbed over the fence and played on the court, even if there was no tennis net.

But I'm a bad sportsman. My emotions always interfered.

I have no official achievements in any kinds of sport.

I went to ballroom dancing (not long, about two months ) to acting courses and attended music lessons. My other passion was computer games and I'll write about that later.

I just want to say that once I had very heavy work loads: both physical and psychological, and now I cannot make myself to do something useful. I smoke a packet of cigarettes every day. Once I was sure that I would never smoke. I had an athletic body and now there are extra 25 kilos in me. More than that, I have some kind of psychiatric illness and I have to stay a lot in bed and do nothing.

I live in some other strange world, in my world.
Today I have nothing to write about yesterday. Mom came and I helped her to unpack things. I watched a movie on her new smartphone. Late in the evening I was lying on my back on the grass behind the house, listening to my music and looking at the stars. I was spinning and twisting my arms, legs and body. Then the superintendents came and I had to go into the house (just kidding , there were no superintendents ). And I guess it'll be a sleepless night again. I made coffee in a French press and warmed some milk. There is a very pleasant breeze outside. Yeah, and by the way, my mother gave me a Swatch for my birthday, it's brand new. Besides the main hands it also has three clock-faces. Does anyone know what they are for? There is something like a chronometer and tachymeter. What is that for and what do I do with it?

I'm returning to Moscow in on the 6th of September, at night. I will try to shoot at least another 15 films. With this work in the club I completely forgot about my main work-noncommercial shooting. I also can't find my wallet: it's Lacoste, it's black and stitched with a purple thread. I will not survive if I do not find it. Urgently send me a confidential file with the object's coordinates.

Thanks, I've found it!
I do not remember what happened the day before yesterday. I think I went to the beach and shot one film there. Yesterday I felt bad. I played Clash of Clans, read the diaries of Sontag. I was going to shoot on the beach, but changed my mind. The day was wasted.

I shot in the club at night.

And now it's light , I'm sitting on a beach sand and writing these lines. There are small waves along the shore, a man in swimming trunks is jogging and there are a lot of seagulls. I have a glass bottle of Pepsi. I used the money which I got in the club to buy a hellish hot-dog and ate only a half of it. Now it's high time to drink vodka.

Everything is so beautiful and there are almost no people here. But I have no one to drink with and I can't. One complains that drugs are forbidden, but vodka is legal. I cannot drink vodka or take drugs.

Pepsi is allowed but not recommended. Fictional dialogues are emerging from the past in my head. I did not understand what they were about. Now it's become clear that they were about today. Even if the future is known in details, I have no desire disperse it. There are a lot of questions which have been piling up for a long time and they have no answers. I pose them to different people. They usually look at my level and respond to it accordingly. It's insulting when you've come up with something and you think that it's only yours, but then you understand that you are not alone, that someone has come up with the same thing, in fact there are many of us.

As an option there are memory matrixes , there are at least a few, and the present reveals the matrix of the past that fits me. My option isn't the best. For example, I went to my father for the weekend while he was alive and I was at school. When he finished work, we went for a walk, sometimes we went into the woods. We talked, but I do not remember what about, and do not know how to remember.

I only remember that we took a pack of newspapers Ekstra- M, they lay in each house, and burned them in the yard. I remember only fragments. It's very sad to tell about it.

I can live better here in real life in the present. Otherwise, why would I learn German?

I'll plunge into the water naked, gather my belongings and go home.
I decided not to write anything yesterday. I was going to bed when my beloved sister wrote to me that I was good at writing and that she was also writing a book (I will not reveal the details ).

It seems to me that yesterday I came home from work on the beach, everything was so beautiful after vodka; and I went to bed at 12 a.m.

So I slept the whole Sunday and Saturday night. I woke up on Monday at 2p.m. I had breakfast, and dawdled a bit. Then I went to a wild beach where the lighthouse was. It took me 40-50 minutes.

And then I walked along the coast towards the central beach, and shot what I saw. I shot almost two films. I bought a refill card for mom and went home. When I came, it was already 7 p.m. I ate two bowls of borsch, then I had a chat with Diana and Masha on Vkontakte.

It's too late now, I am going to bed. Today I will go to the beach again and nothing interesting will happen. Later, after developing films and scanning it'll become clear that time was not wasted. One day there will be an exhibition and at least one album will be published.

Thank you for your attention! Good night!
My summer vacation at the Black Sea is coming to an end. In less than two weeks I'll board a train and it will take me back to Moscow. I paid for a ticket by credit card on the 7th of August. The train leaves at night on the 5th of September. The tickets for a lower bunk were no longer sold. Yesterday I felt bad and spent the day with my iPad which means it was useless.

Today I woke up, had breakfast, called a taxi driver and drove to the lighthouse. I plunged into the sea and then shot for 3 hours. It seemed that there was nothing interesting but my player helped me. I turned on the music , listened to some tunes, and everything began to play, something started to happen, and I felt that I had something to shoot. I shot two films and went home. I bought a small saucepan for my mom. It looks like cezve and on my way home I bought some meat.

Now we are having a party and I'm writing these lines.
I'm feeling unwell. Today I've shot three films on the beach. Then I came home and now it's time to go to sleep but I'm suffering from insomnia. I feel as if I did my best and now I can hardly think. It's like in poker, in some matches I do my best and earn something with difficulty, and then I switch on an easy-level and I lose.

Tomorrow I'm going back to the beach to shoot.

Good night, Facebook!
After yesterday's shooting I'm overworked and I cannot even stand up as if I had had a bottle of vodka yesterday.
Yesterday I stayed at home, felt horrible, but today I feel fine, slept well and saw a good dream. It's the second day when I get up at 11 a.m. and not at 4p.m. or 5p.m. Now I am going to shoot. It means that I will be very tired again.

I wanted to add that with this diary I've written myself dry ( this is a writer's term ) and have no desire to continue. In 11 days I'm going back to Moscow.
Well, sorry for the delirium! Today I drank Puer tea closer to nighttime, two or three cups , and took my bed outside to the backyard and threw it on the lawn. It 's not stuffy here and the rustling of the leaves can be heard, and the wind blows, you can smoke as much as you want, and if you look up you can see the stars but not the ceiling.

Well, I have energy! And I need to write something. Every day I drink fresh goat milk. Children bring a liter or a half. A Liter costs 10 hryvnas. I hardly drink it. I drank it with friends when they come. I go to shoot every other day or every day. I shoot from one to three films per session. Today the number of shots has reached forty. Among them, mostly black and white shots and a few colour ones.

My mother came and coincidentally I stopped writing. I carry water from the well and sometimes I wash the dishes.

The day before yesterday I went to the local hospital and asked the doctor for an injection. Now I feel fine, I have enough energy, i.e. I do less bullshit. I had to get an injection three weeks ago, but I've done just now. You see how sincere I am and hopefully I'm telling you (and myself) everything. I listen to music - if I go to the seaside or to the store, and just when I do nothing. It is mostly artists like Eminem, Cypress Hill and Deftones. They are great musicians, they won't play bad! Well, and Rage Against the Machine, of course.

In the past I had contacts or a relationship with the press, if you like. I was given a task and I went to shoot. First, I shot as I wanted and did it in the format of publication, then I blanked out and shot almost nothing. My shootings were published in Evening Newspaper (for the most part ), Secret Of The Firm, Akciya, Russian Newspaper and Trud. Then there was a break. Now I'm an overgrown crazy ill bastard. Otherwise I would have become the star of Russian photojournalism.

Now I'm trying to forget my past and continue what I've begun, but keeping the experience and achievement. I studied for a year at The Rodchenko Art School , in the studio of Igor Mukhin. Igor says that he can teach me nothing. But there is something I learned.

First, now there is no division into "work" and "everything else". If I shoot - I work. I was afraid that " everything else" would suffer, but I was wrong. Secondly, I became more courageous. Experience has shown that I can come closer to strangers with a wide lens and make two or three shots and not be beaten to a pulp. I must say that I shot now at a level where the slightest conflict can severely interfere with the shooting. I try to be invisible, save energy at the same time and think during the shooting. Thirdly? Thirdly I see better, I see the colour and see everything sharper than before. I am a little confused that here I take black and white shots, and I still see color.

I do not wear sunglasses. But here in Primorskoe, I have been shooting for four years using film and I need to continue to shoot black & white by a rangefinder camera with 35 mm lens. There is also point number four and number five, and so on, I know more than ever before and I also know who I was before. I have made a lot of acquaintances (with the right people? :)) and in general I was busy all the time.

I still have to undergo treatment and it will take at least another two or three years. How rapidly I lost everything and how deliberately it's coming back. I watch myself change every day and I (think that) am still the same. Sometimes make bad jokes, I do not always say what I want to, not what I mean, I do not always know what to say and I have problems with wavelengthmanship. At Rodchenko School I think that I'm " the most" in two ways - I'm the thickest and the most smoking one. I still have the world's best rangefinder camera. But it's just an opinion.

Now about the sea. Most of the tourists have returned home and the beach is desolate. The kiosks are closing. Now I'm shooting landscapes and jellyfish, not only people. The sea is getting colder. The water has turned cold on the beach there are huge piles of empty bottles and garbage. People and the light are kinder, sand smoother, the waves have appeared. People are collecting seashells and catching huge jellyfish, playing cards, sunbathing and drinking wine (and beer). Corn cobs and shrimps sellers who walk along the shore know me. I think that I am a free man. Freedom is limited , but I quietly walk along the dark alleys.

Thank you very much for your company Gurgen , Mary, Kirill, Sergey , Diana and Mary. I was very glad to see you all here ! Now I want to become a writing photographer and I feel confident about my future book - it seems I'll do it sooner or later.
It 's time for my final note for the 2013 holiday season in Prymorskoye. The bus carried me from Prymorskoye to Odessa quite fast, within 4 hours. I got an e-ticket at the railway station and exchanged 100 dollars, which my mom gave me, checked-in my luggage and went for a stroll. Tonight at 1:24 a train will take me to Moscow.

From the station I went straight away to Derybasovskaya street. I asked strangers: "Where is the junk market?" It's far away from here and there's no one there today. I walked into a store "World's Lotus" in Derybasovskaya. They sell books like "3000 charms of a Siberian healer", "How to talk to angels", adding Dianetics, Osho and many more. I bought a book from them, but will not say its name. I remember when very young I got 3 rubles to buy a chewing gum, so I ran to the nearest subway where next to chewing gums they sold a three-volume edition on black magic. I remember myself freeze and stare. In the street I was given a flyer to a brothel.

Before throwing it away I recalled "Vogue" by Pelevin. Then I got lost, I couldn't find the way and had no idea where to go and why, so I wandered in a cafe and had a mushroom cream soup. Now I'm writing wrapped up in a blanket. It's rather cold here. For my last two or three days customs officers occasionally rung my doorbell. They were looking for cocaine or heroin. Once in 2007 I was taken off a train and interrogated because I'd fucked up my custom declaration and had a pack of phenazepam. Since then I have felt uneasy when talking to customs officers. Then I spent two or three days on the border and I remember doing a headstand late at night in front of the main customs building while 200 meters away somebody head was hit against the pavement. The head customs officer made friends with me and promised to come to my wedding with an accordion. I was going home in a dining car. At the railway station customs officers said that people like me must be executed as they thought I was a drug courier. I have 4 injection ampules in my luggage now…

In about a month and a half, or maybe earlier, one can have a look at the result of my 2 months' work. 44 films may be not a great deal but considering the fact that I'm ill it's OK. Marina confirmed by e-mail that I will remain in Rodchenko School in Igor Mukhin's group. On top of that my hospital series may have its continuation.

In the morning I'm OK but at night I'm "dying" not having found support - I feel as if my eyes are losing life and I only hear voices telling me bad things. I need to be fine at night too. It also seems to me I shouldn't be listening to some songs from my playlist. I have tanned a bit, filled my lungs with marine air and, most importantly, for 2 months I have lived far from the civilization where you can drink genuine milk and eat fresh meat, fish, fruit and vegetables and fresh eggs. Every evening I used to take my player and go out to the backyard where I listened to music, jumped and watched the stars.

I sometimes l missed fast Internet and my friends ( I spent most of the time alone). In a year or two we will finish our new two-storey house, set up the Internet and it will be fine living there - though it's fine now it will be much better. This house costs more than any Russian moneybag's villa. And, what's really important, I have recharged my batteries. I waited for the heat to drop, took my camera and player and went to the beach across the field and then along the shore to the central beach, I took pictures and swam. For three or five hours I was on my feet. I stopped and waited for a story and I sometimes read and dropped in a café where I ate a pork chop with rice and had coffee. I went back home along the road. Or drove. I wrote down my notes. This is my last note this season, number 36, meaning I have written 25 pages.

I wonder what we'll find "on the other side"(and where it all actually is). The mind's eye, secret societies and governments, castes, old lives and the lives to come, my neuroleptics, this weird lie detector, new world order and stuff. All these gurus make my tongue glued to the roof of my mouth and most of them are charlatans or even ignorant. Fucked up future, astrology, accidental possibility, fucking aura, shitty karma.

This is it. Prymorskoye rocks!
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