reflections in museums

I found myself in Pushkin’s museum. I spent my childhood there among this sculptures. I was still trying to copy this world on the paper was walking with my pencil everywhere. But Pushkin’s museum is smth special.
In this big empty halls with windows on ceilings I was always thinking – that may be all these legends about golden age is may be true – thereore beginning with middle age there is this longing for antic past. I would even call it nostalgia. This yearning for past – which was in mind and again and again repeated in poems, stories and – pictures. Time passed. This nostalgia stayed.
I stop in roman sculptures hall and sat on the low sofa. Hall was full of copies and only that changed – that some of them I already ve seen in real. But Nika sculpture s still out of this world. This lines, absolutely alive lines of her, this power and tenderness of stone – gigantic, up there, she was on the ship flying-swimming forward. I felt again nostalgia prick inside.

Among these sculptures I couldn’t help but was close to crying.

Sculptures. Sculptures of men.

Sometimes I think what attract me that much in ur body. When u stay naked in the room I feel pale prick again, heart easily sank, smth so unconscious and far that I never think about it. Long legs, chest form, belly and this lines of ur hips. Longing for past an longing for ur body is 2 different things. Past doesn’t have this warm skin. And I ve never united this 2 different things.
Only that this long hours among copies where I was roaming about since I was girl – made me remember u strong.
And think that u and this past is connected.