Prodavec lepeshek

He still loves this place.
His great-grandfather and grandfather sold cakes here.
Every morning, the sun has not yet risen, but the dough is coming,
And he whispers to the fire in the tandoor "burn out quickly."
Keeping the secret of their cakes, they protect the gray hair of the year.
In the constancy of righteous deeds, nothing is more precious,
Than transparent thoughts spring water.
Therefore, he drives away all bad news, illnesses and troubles from himself.
And even if unsmiling neighbors live nearby, he still loves and respects them because every day they fight with the whole world in order to somehow survive.
He just lives like this.
He cooks his cakes and sells them at his old place near the mausoleums of Shakhi-Zinda,
In which those who were fed with cakes by his ancestors are buried.
When he leaves, this place will not be empty for a long time.
Delicious cakes are eaten sensibly, without any meaning, but with great appetite.
This is what our whole life is based on!
Everything is ground into flour, no matter how difficult it is, even if we are talking about something long forgotten by everyone ...

Canvas. Oil. 45x45
April 2023