As beautiful as autumn. As terrible as medieval torture. What is bread? What is flesh? Is there a connection between them? What does a person do with himself and with the objects that surround him and how does this affect his attitude to the world and to other people?
We had the opportunity to pay more attention to ourselves and our home and ask a thousand more questions to which there are not always obvious answers. I ask myself: my life is still life or nature morte. Am I OK? And if I'm OK why do I admit it? Perhaps, we want last meeting without realizing it.
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