INTERVIEW 2012 (Patreon)
Content
Sometimes I manage to earn some money, but rarely do I manage to spend it properly. I still need to learn that well.
I love and respect my mistakes. Maybe that's why I make them so often. Time changes their essence, and they turn into elegant and well-thought-out decisions by me.
Oh, I'm great at and love laughing at myself.
I move from apartment to apartment on average every two months, sometimes every week. I have impenetrable armor; I can withstand any blow.
My last interview was edited so that I came across as a sweet, correct, and talented boy in every aspect, living only for photography. That's complete nonsense! People often hear only what they want to hear, not what I say.
I'd like to have a musical ear like my father, but all I got was a sense of humor.
Sometimes, I can go days and nights without talking to anyone. During this time, I'm either passionately working or decomposing myself with poisonous pessimism and destroying the bricks of sanity.
It's easier for me to ask for forgiveness after doing something than to ask for permission beforehand. Or vice versa.
I no longer try to understand women. I admire them in all their multifaceted manifestations.
Silence benefits me. There's nothing more healing for me than spending a couple of hours in complete silence.
I can start a new life every day tomorrow.
I remember the name of the girl I first kissed. Her name was Ulyana. She had long hair and was the darling of the whole garden. Alright. I never actually kissed her. But I genuinely, genuinely wanted to. I swear.
I have experienced many losses in my life. But life has compensated me with no less significant gains.
I find it cloying to communicate with endlessly correct people who try to seem sinless. People with flaws attract me more strongly. And I have plenty of flaws.
A few days after the shoot, when the photos are ready, I instantly forget about them.
I try to delete all comments on my work on the internet as quickly as possible. Otherwise, everything turns into a trash heap.
I have no daily routine. No matter how much I try to make schedules and discipline myself. And honestly, deep down, I really like it.
My favorite book? It's "Robinson Crusoe." It's definitely my favorite and most instructive book.
Sometimes I know what I'm talking about. But that's even rarer than just sometimes.
I'm often asked if photographers sleep with models. Of course, they do. Do doctors sleep with nurses, do doctors sleep with orderlies, do teachers sleep with other teachers? Everyone sleeps with each other. Even animal trainers in the circus sleep with their pets...
I've noticed that sometimes when I try to be as correct, polite, and sweet as possible (considering that in reality, I'm hardly like that), people start to take advantage of me and push me around. It's not pleasant.
I stopped looking for what and how people write about me or my work.
I know everything about myself. I prefer to read about others.
Often, I fall asleep with thoughts that this day was complete crap. However, when I wake up, I usually don't remember it anymore.
There was a time in my life when everything was terrible. I filled the bathtub with water, submerged my head, and counted how long I could hold my breath.
My Skype is always in invisible mode.
I can listen to what others say. But I don't always understand what they're talking about.
The king of nature is definitely the skunk.
In 8 out of 10 cases, I don't finish what I've started.
I cannot stand betrayal and crude forms of illiterate impudence...
The stupidest question you can ask a child is "Who do you love more: mom or dad?"
Once, a girl I was dating confessed her love to me in a dream. It was my most intense love shock. By the way, in the same dream, I replied that I loved her too. But we broke up anyway.
I am limited by my laziness, stupidity, and insecurity.
If I were asked if I would write a book or make a movie, my answer would be: I would write a couple of short stories and make a couple of short films. I'm not capable of more than that yet.
I probably don't leave a good impression after a first meeting.
There are no boring subjects in school, only boring and tedious teachers.
I have a hard time digesting criticism aimed at me, but compliments also furrow my brow.
By the way, my ears often turn red.
People expect too much from me. I expect even more from myself. But I'm unlikely to fully live up to the hopes placed on me.
For me, it's better to say "no" more often and insistently than "yes."
I often scold myself for my endless laziness. But it's my forge of ideas and fantasies.
When I want to impress someone very much, or make them leave me alone, I start to be extremely and cynically sarcastic.
I get annoyed when people ask me the same questions over and over. It was flattering at first, but now it's infuriating. "How did you get into photography?" Oh, a thousand devils! It's because nothing else worked out well for me, and it still doesn't.
Sometimes your talent makes you do things you don't want to do, and you end up in places you wouldn't even dream of in a nightmare.
I always drank the whole glass of juice rather quickly, instead of sipping it through a straw for hours, clinking ice cubes against the glass walls.
I'm the worst joke-teller.
I'm not the kind of person people often ask for advice.
Me, me, me, me, me, and once again me, almost all of my sentences start with "I."
I don't like it when there's someone on the shooting set besides me and the person I'm shooting.
Boredom is not for me. I just get depressed quite often.
I was born in Belarus and lived there until I was 17. It's my fortress of memories, a warm, sticky lake where I can dive when it's completely cloudy and cold in reality.
I have no idea what I'll be doing or where I'll be living in 5 years. No idea at all.
In the last year, I've lived in four capitals (and enjoyed all of them), changed 8 or 9 apartments. Two suitcases of belongings and a suitcase of lights - that's all I've accumulated by 26. The trend isn't promising. But I don't care.
I shoot black and white photos because I like how my photos look in black and white. In color, they almost always look much worse. There are no other significant reasons.
I live in Paris, I've trampled almost all its streets, but my eyes just can't get enough.