P.S. One of my landladies in Koktebel (who has two kids, but lost her beloved husband. One cannot have everything, can one?) once said to me: "The landscape behind the window is the only thing that reconciles me with life"...
Indeed, her house was (and I hope still is) on a hill above the sea and the landscape was/is breathtaking.
That's exactly where I wrote my 1995 Koktebel diary and the poem "While...."
While I lived in this little room
facing the sea,
having no walls -
only windows and windows and windows...
I woke up with the dawn,
saw the acacia's feathers -
one day it blossomed.
Its flowers in marvelous grapes
reached for the Sun and the Sky -
how could I miss that at all?
And the Sky had been living its Secret Celestial Life,
However, with the coming of the new age of commerce... the uproaring disco started to shake the hill even at night, so I had to move out the next year.
What is the reconciliation with life then? I could not paint there, could not sleep there, could not enjoy anything anymore...
The landscape behind my window was the only thing that reconciled me with my apartment and I thought it would outlive me by many years. All the outer space art photos have been taken from my window. However... last year they started to build a high-rise block right in front of my window, which is screening the whole beautiful panorama of Moscow now...