The essay of Olga Gubanova about Still Life
Still Life
One. A black cat with pistachio yellow eyes drinking
water from a cut-glass, quite possibly your glass because it is situated
on your white writing desk. Quite possibly you even for all these years
have been drinking water from his glasses and green tea with sugar from
his cups. He looks at you while drinking. Two. The black cat with the
transparent plate filled with apricots on a piano. He smells them like
flowers. An aesthete. Thinks about all fragrances of orange and Rene
Magritte. Three. The black cat among the elongated silk pillows
decorated by flamboyant lines and flowers and with all sorts of metallic
buttons. He, black, is on a white and black closed keyboard, like the
black volumetric metaphor of piano, soft paws, stays, like a silent
sound, and at the same time he is between them. I guess he thinks about
radiant grass.
original
copyright ©
Olga Gubanova 2013
