(Korobushkin Evgeniy, "Oblivion". Oil on cardboard. 1990. 75x61)
"At the end of conversations, that precipice breached, the craving to be in
another culture gnaws at you. Go home to the bones. The carcass has been picked clean and thereafter, the only destination is oblivion."
from: The Diaries of Witold Kamerisky, notebook 12, page 113
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