Copyright © 1999-2009 by Ulita Productions
Look at the variety of forms in the cosmic world!
Whoever was responsible for such ingenuity,
Sent a message that the meaning of life is to create a manifold,
While the meaning of love is to create beauty.
So we hover in the infinity – two creators,
Far from the common sense imposed by gravity
On plants and creatures that envy us
For the flights we inherited from the Almighty.
                                                                  V. Ulea

Feelings in humans
Are like time in space
(The former moves
While the latter stays).

Time is forever.
Space doesn’t live that long -
It requires updates.

Though imprescriptible,
Time is still wrong
For space.

Space is suicidal. It tends to an end.
Time has no goal -
Like this evening that no one knows how to spend,
Or the clock on the wall.

Time never stops - it moves ahead.
Space loses that race.

When in the middle of your life,
You see its end, you feel your absence,
You hear your ever-lasting silence
Within the ever-rumbling hive
Performing movements with no reason.
The world of gods, like atheism,
Is a creation of your thought.
But you are gone and now your world
Is also vanished. Or it isn’t.

That’s what is tearing you apart-
The confluence of life and art
From their unthinkable beginning.
Whether you live in someone's plot
Or you yourself are the only god
Is undetectable. The meaning
Of life is tangled in its forms.
From birth your mind has been immersed
In myths of the universe. And cosmos
Is what you think, for you come first,
And space is shaped with the thinker's force
That manages all other forces.

But in the middle of your life
You face again that dowager-muddle
That watched your cradle and made you strive
For leaving it - the monstrous mother
Of the human and inhuman race.
Once you escaped, but it still waits
There, on the border of the other.

You have no choice - defeat or fail.
Or make yourself a better tale.
                                     V. Ulea

Whether you sleep
Or just rest with your eyes closed -
It’s there, you can hear its tides.
It expands through your consciousness, it talks
In a language that never dies,
But only augments versions of the told.
There is always you and you
Between the ocean and the rest of the world
Whose different points of view
Created God. And He still expands.
The more you think of it,
the more you feel alone -
A mollusk given a chance,
One in a million.
Your life has a purpose, your life has end...
Life of the ocean is purposeless and endless.
Close your eyes to embark from your land
For the constant tides of the changeable vagueness.
Close your eyes to ride your boat,
Balancing on the waves of notions
Like a homeless astronaut
In the cosmic ocean.
                                         V. Ulea

Time never turns backward
Unlike your head,
And is aimed at space.

Space wants stability, tries to be fixed.
It works on the absolute.

Time is unsteady. It constantly leaks
Through space, which it tends to pollute.

Their clash is their factor,
Their meaning, their cutting edge -
Like “before” comes with “after”
Or “forever” with the mourning for change.

They are far from agreement.
In them we face
Our weird design
That makes us dream and
Suffer like space
From acting like time.
                                                 V. Ulea

Video Montage With Poetry and Music

Directed by V. Ulea
Photographs and poetry by V.Ulea
Video montage by Michael Zubarev
Mass in B Minor by J.S. Bach
Digitally orchestrated and performed
by Vad Chariton
Time: 9 min.40 sec.