It’s been 10 years already since Tamara Aksirova came to St Petersburg from Northern Caucasus.
For 10 years she did painting. Now she doesn’t.
 
It worked out as a series of portraits and genre scenes.
A circle of observation, St Petersburg social circle:
Its own characters, its own music, its own mood...
It’s a bohemian society,
Non-occupied at this very moment or any other moment either.
Gipsy melancholic amusement,
With longhair drunken reflection.
Luxury of a tavern in a music cellar.
Its passions, its heroes, its events…
It worked out as St Pete in the beginning of a new century –
High nanos, but of the same petite bourgeoisie sick at heart.
The same absent of consciousness on the threshold of a great apocalypse.

Post-impressionism is stuck in the head.
This is it’s selection of genres.
On the sofa or at the table…
Venuses, Machs, cocaine addicts – what sounds more up to date?
Broken women’s something…
Exotic effects, which came with a great price
A glass wearily brought on a tray to… Karavaytchuk
And still a holiday,
Which turned into idleness.
Like decadent freedom… from one’s own self