Memories Two yellow information streams flows into the memory. First one represents visual perception(Text from the painting): Mom’s thoughtful face. Grey in father’s hair…rain…Sun behind the branches…Blossoms like a new born babies…My flat. 5th floor. Brown door. 38…Mom’s green eyes. Colors from the ocean. Smell of you…Autumn leaves on the pavement. Colors and odors. Autumn-subsided passion-romance… Snow in old town…Two hands crossed together. Fingers into fingers… Mine and yours…Snow-Sleeping white bears in my yard. Second information stream is verbal(text from the painting): Sequences of the words. Sentences. Poems. Haikus- A man-Charles Bukowski. Ideas, Ideology. Courage is being scared to death but saddling up anyway.(John Wayne).More words. Aphorisms.-For every minute you are angry, you lose 60 seconds of happiness. Matrixes of various sentences. Languages. Knowledge- The only true wisdom is knowing that you know nothing. Socrates. Life style-Always be a poet, even in prose.(Charles Baudelaire). Love-You. Strategy-I destroy my enemies, when I make them my friends.(A. Lincoln). Belief-Even death isn’t to be feared by one who has lived wisely. (Buddha).Religion- Do to others whatever you would like them to do to you.(Jesus). Concept- God. It is how we collect information in short-term memory. After some time we forget (Text from the painting): Forgetting the words...Songs I used to listen…Winkles on my morning's messy blanket. Voices of the crowds... rage caused by an insult... faces of acquaintances... old spirits of the renovated streets... First anger. First smile. First wander. Getting rid of unpleasant memories, useless information, fake words. Forgotten dreams of last night...waking up empty...without plans....without time-tables... without future...yawning... Chunks of everyday routine... unnecessary details... Forgotten eggs on the stove... Abandoned sins in the past...facing the sun.. missed chords of "For No One"...Thoughts passed by my mind and never caught... my childhood heroes... Idyll ... years passed by... fear of death... poured milk on the floor... white futility becomes wide futility... forgotten math formulas and truth I was born with... Faded shapes of angels from my cradle.... But some our memories enter in our heart(from short-term memory to long-term memory). Some stay for a long time. Some forever…(Text from the painting): My Mom’s baking the cake for y birthday. My brother and me- playing football in the yard…I’, 10, he-8. My aunt in front of Mother Mary’s icon. She kisses the icon. Kneels. She crosses herself. She prays for me. I pray for her. But her faith is deep. I notice it in her every movement. She stands up. Sighs. Kisses the icon again. She has a faith. Outside is a little orchard. And pool with goldfishes. Old man stares at them. He thinks. Water reflects him. He has tome to think… Sparrows on my balcony. Family is a word I say smiling. Reminds me mother’s hands- place where you can always return without explanation . Sometimes is sun. Sometimes- clouds. Your smile. Evenings with you. Candles on the floor. Brown spot above your eyebrow. Love. Warmth. Clock counts the time. Time we don’t belong to…