I feel little tired by work on cartoon. It so difficult to assemble details in a picture and this vexes me. I feel people are just standing and just talking, waving hands and nothing more. Something most important eludes from me, some key what can discover sub-text. As soon as you swarm up work you reveal a bundle of defects. Not defects are urge for work but hopes and dreams what you put on it. I understood that if you want to make your work brilliant you must fell in love with it. That why your heart wouldn’t admit to leave work empty. Often real life bothers me to enter inside picture and inside myself.
I think as a real fatalist Nastya’s text was a divine sign for me.