This is my biography. It tells about how I began to do what I do and the coincidences
that brought me about 25 years later to do what I was supposed to about 25 years before.
When I was a child at school, I was really very good at drawing.
All professors, all friends, each and everyone told me: Oh, how good are you at drawing!
So, I drew, because everyone told me I was good.
Each and everyone would have bet on me becoming an artist.
But I was going to take another direction.
Direction 1: becoming an artist.
Direction 2: becoming anyone else but not an artist.
I chose 2.
I loved languages, playing guitar, but more than languages and guitar, I loved girls.
So one day, having to decide asap which school to attend, I went to a school of languages which,
luckily, was full enough of girls to make me say: pay one get two!
Gave up music.
One tile fell upon another, and another and another.
Left school before the end. Worked as a metalworker. Went to army. Came back, start working as a carpenter.
Now I am 20.
Left job as a carpenter, tried to work as a salesman, not good at selling.
List of the things I tried to sell:
2 air and gas heating
3 air conditioners
5 household appliances door to door (one day)
6 pay-tv subscriptions
I decide to make up for lost time in school.
I study on my own.
I ask my brother – the only one graduated, the priest – to help me.
He says: you won’t make it.
Wait next year.
I say: no!
I prepare 16 subjects for 2 years of study.
I take the first exam: German. I go to hospital: appendicitis.
They let me delay all my other subjects until they discharge me.
I come out and sit for all the left exams. Done!!!
Next day I got the forms for the university.
One new tile.
Now I am 25.
Languages: Russian, German
And if I had time, Portuguese.
7 exams. Russian oral, Russian written. Only Russian.
What can you do if you know languages and you like writing?
First step: book translations.
I wrote articles, short-stories, long-stories, medium-long-stories, plays.
One day a friend said to me: an editor read your stories.
She asks for a book. Do you have any ready?
I had 3 in progress: 1st at page 12, 2nd at about page 30, and the last one at about page 70.
No: I have no books ready.
I can try to finish one, but I have no more ideas to put in them.
No fucking ideas! Empty, clear, blank!
I had been waiting for that moment but happiness is an ice cube.
Now I am 30.
Plays and a girl brought me to theatre.
I began acting.
I began directing.
I began teaching.
Three steps in 2 years.
Then streets, squares, festivals.
Hard work, weird people, little money.
I had a company on my own: we were more than 10.
Rehearsing was hard: no place, no time, no money.
During a show I played a drama where I played all 9 characters.
One man came and asked me to participate in a comic show.
I said: it was a drama.
He said: but it made all of us laugh.
I said: I was misunderstood.
A while later I shot my first video.
A while later I began working in advertising.
Commercials, web, setups, scenographies, music videos, multimedia, installations.
All at once I was doing things I had never heard about before.
Hard work, weird people, more money.
Suddenly I was some kind of expert for someone who knew just a little less than me.
Another tile fell upon the recent one.
Then I began making videos for other artists.
It was funny.
I never thought art could be so stupid.
Put together some fucking stolen clips from the web, put some noise, some effects, speed up, slow down.
That’s art! They loved it!
I never thought art lovers could be so stupid.
Five years up to then.
Now I’m 40.
What happened since then?
I’ve come full circle?