Встреча со знаменитым фотохудожником Андреем Сучковым прошла в парке Сокольники, под вопли быдла, которое пило пиво, дралось и орало песни под гитару. Было ощущение, что мы в Бронксе. Одному быдлоиду разбили морду в кровь битой, он стал орать РУССКИЕ ВПЕРЕД, но никто не двинулся с места - видимо, русских окрест не было. А мы с Андреем были заняты обсуждением приготовления фондю в домашних условиях. Завидую Андрею: ему до конца лета предстоят поездки в десяток городов, и ему за это еще платят. Мечтаю жить в поезде или на худой конец, в автофургоне.
I met with a famous photo artist Andrei Suchkov in Sokolniki Park where the mobs yelled, fought and squawked with guitars. It was a feeling that we were in the Bronx, NY. One mob had his mug beaten to blood with a baseball club; he started to shout RUSSIANS FORWARD but no one has moved - obviously, there were no Russians nearby, and I and Andrei were too busy discussing cooking of homemade fondue. I envy Andrei because he has got to visit a dozen of cities this summer and be paid for it. I dream about living in a train ar, at least, an a motor van.
I met with a famous photo artist Andrei Suchkov in Sokolniki Park where the mobs yelled, fought and squawked with guitars. It was a feeling that we were in the Bronx, NY. One mob had his mug beaten to blood with a baseball club; he started to shout RUSSIANS FORWARD but no one has moved - obviously, there were no Russians nearby, and I and Andrei were too busy discussing cooking of homemade fondue. I envy Andrei because he has got to visit a dozen of cities this summer and be paid for it. I dream about living in a train ar, at least, an a motor van.

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