"Times don't die, they live and choose," says poet Svetlana Kryukova, paraphrasing famous lines by Alexander Kushner. The incomprehensibility of time is the lesson of her quest, expressed in the poem "Relic Snow." Nevertheless, we talked about its "incomprehensible" nature and tried to figure out what a "choice" is - Svetlana, there is such a difficult thing in life as a choice. I would like to try to talk about this. How do I make a choice? The first and most significant choice is what a person dedicates his life to. For you, this is probably a choice in favor of poetry. Do I understand correctly? Tell us about it. - Alas, but no, I made a choice in favor of poetry not so long ago. Moreover, my teachers helped me make it. For a long time I resisted what was breaking through with fierce force, and I had to go through both my own lack of faith in myself and someone else's rejection. But, as my master Gennady Krasnikov says, "The longer the silence, the more amazing the speech." Often, when a person comes across my works for the first time, the question arises: "What was that?": surprise, mixed with admiration, then with dislike. I don't recall any indifferent reader— Alas, but no, I made a choice in favor of poetry not so long ago. Moreover, my teachers helped me make ry.
- And in general, from your point of view, how should such a choice occur in a person's life? - Empirically… You need to fill a lot of "bumps", but go to the sound of a voice reflecting off the walls of your own Self. Eurydice yearns in each of us, and it is very important to give her a chance to come out of the darkness. - How do you choose what to write poetry about? - Poems in my case are the crowning reflection, they appear as answers to some previously asked questions. If you compare this process with the work of a supercomputer, which, as you know, is much more primitive than the human brain, then you can imagine it as a kind of task asking: "What is this?", "I don't understand...", etc. And the work of the brain, stretched over time. You live and exist as a human being with all human needs, but somewhere in the depths of what your soul is (and it's not just your brain, is it?) work is underway. Plus randomness. For me, chance is the trigger, and therefore I cannot say that I choose what to write about. The universe chooses. If we touch on the very nature of poetry, we can recall the "physicists and lyricists." It seems to me that the task of lyricists and lyricists, respectively, is to ask questions, and the task of physics physicists is to find answers. As a teenager, I dreamed of becoming a physicist, not a poet, and my choice would have been in this direction if my fate had been different. For example, my idol in my youth was the physicist Marie Curie, not any poet. Yes, I had an interest in poetry, since I spent a lot of time in the library reading Foreign magazines. Yes, Pushkin was already among the "leaders" in life, but as they say now, the trigger for starting his own serious work with the word was a poem by the American poet Kenneth Rexroth. I guess it coincided with a seventeen-year-old girl's search for something true. His poem "One Void" made an indelible impression on me then.: "Time is like glass / Like glass, space / I sit motionless / God knows something / Suddenly happens / Quiet noisy calm furious / The snake coils / Around itself / All things easily let light through / And then become transparent / And then disappear altogether / One void / And there are no boundaries to it / One infinitely obscure / Song / of a coiled brain / And there is nothing else." It still fascinates me. It's physics and lyrics all rolled into one; it's questions and answers. And also – time. That's what I always worry about – time. However, I don't think I'm original in this. Who doesn't care about time? If you ask me who the main character of my works is, I can firmly answer – time. It is precisely its nature – incomprehensibility, impalpability (its absence as a tangible structure, tangible phenomenon) - that is the material that I "develop" in my "supercomputer".
- What other important choices have you had to make in your life? - The most important choice was to step under the wheels of a car so as not to die under the wheels of another car. Somehow my relationship with cars doesn't work out. In fact, all cardinal elections are similar to stepping under the wheels. - There is also such a difficult task – choosing the people with whom we get closer in life. Friends, loved ones, like-minded people. Or do they come to life on their own? - Oh, it's very difficult with people, the word "choice" doesn't apply here at all. I am an open person, overly open, and I always have a hard time experiencing misunderstandings. People come and go, simply because everyone has their own path, their own tasks. The choice is not made by people, but by the tasks they face. "And the books?" Do we choose them or do they choose us? The ones we read. - Everything is much simpler with books – there is something that it is a shame not to read, this shame mainly drives the masses (apart from interest), someone earns money from this shame, they try to shape it – it's a shame not to know about the release of some new product. Often the choice is made by people who manipulate us by fabricating "novelties", it is important to understand this and make your choice. - Has your poetry changed over time? - Yes, I can say with confidence that not so long ago I gained a certain integrity that has eluded me for many years, if not decades. It is possible that it is simply time to "reap the fruits", answers appear out of nothing, and this "nothing" is life. The work of the soul or what can be called my personal "supercomputer" is bearing fruit, and I am happy about it. During my early search for answers, I believed that one day I would find people who would explain everything to me. Now I understand that only I can answer my own questions, there is no consumer attitude towards the world that owes me something, there is confidence that all the answers are "written" in me, you just need to read them. - Your book has an unusual title, what is it related to? - A play on words. "This is not for me" reads both "This is heaven for me" and "This is not about me." "This sky is for me" is something like an application for a certain sector of the universal sky or even some special, individual sky, and "This is not about me", that it is not about me personally. Yes, I can say that the lyrical heroine is one hundred percent made up of me, but I'm still not her. And this is not a schizophrenic duality, but being in the word and being as such. It is not necessary to mythologize the author, that's what one of the readings of the title says. - What did you want to express in your poetry book? "Nothing." Absolutely nothing. The book "This is not for me" is not a collection of poems, but a single organism, symphonically built, polyphonic. Igor Bolychev, the head of the Cypress Casket literary studio, where I have been learning to find myself for many years, identified something about my work as dynamic integrity, and I think I agree with this definition. Each individual poem is as open and "unfinished" as possible, as befits a developing system, but the total volume of the book is a dynamic whole, an open and time-evolving system, but self-sufficient at the time of its perception. And more. This is the "Sky", a kind of new Universe that the author claims to be, at the same time it is something vaguely familiar to every reader; recognizable and at the same time just born. Perhaps I would venture to call this dynamic wholeness and "just-being-born" the task not only of the book, but also of the author himself, and I really hope that to some extent I was able to achieve it.
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