Pictures: Joseph Brodsky portrait of the poet

The poet Joseph Brodsky, saying this name I involuntarily tighten my lips as if I am ashamed. And it's also a shame for 1972 and ' 65, when my country, castrated in 1917, first used this divine diamond as a throw stone, and then completely threw it out of the cart flying along the road of history.
A little monotonous, like a tocsin, with a sweet nasal twang, the voice reads poetry. Brodsky. And the word became flesh, like the Creator, materializing space, the Long-suffering new Job, thrown out as unnecessary, did not complain, but reduced life to a lapidary formula, which he repeatedly used: „ I am a Jew, a Russian poet, and an American citizen“
When I painted this picture, I listened to his poems, of course this is a portrait, it's like Venetian plaster, this style I call Nobby. there are always several assistants involved in the work: my guardian angel, the one I write, I literally feel their presence, the strokes sometimes fall completely against my will and it turns out very beautiful! The paint spreads like mercury, shimmers with varnish and sparkles when applied in layers like patterned, precious jasper..
It is absolutely impossible to repeat these liquid textures exactly, as it is to enter the same river twice. But I like to rethink the topic and another gem comes to light.
The power and amazing effect of my Nobby is that any, the most unpresentable interior becomes ultra-modern, the space becomes bright and aspiring to the future The brain begins to work at triple speeds and the picture begins to feed you with positive, creative energy.
Sometimes my autograph, in the lower right corner, as Titian taught, is written in Russian, but here I decided in Latin, because He is a citizen of the world and taking off my hat to a genius, I apologize and express my delight.

And the eternal battle.
We only dream of peace.
And let nothing happen
won't disturb your dreams.
Grey Night,
and the slumbering birds
swaying from the blue silence