01.12.1915. Petrograd.
You have probably noticed that I have completely ceased to mention (in my letters) painting, and maybe even rejoiced that I forgot about this hobby. God knows I did everything in my power to cope with it. I persuaded myself so much that I wondered how positive I was. First, it's an expensive case, not affordable, and before it starts to generate income (if it ever happens), you have to pay yes for it. Secondly, what can be more accurate than mathematics, especially if it will be crowned with a diploma of Bestuzhevsky courses?
It must have been a long time ago that I would have been sitting between two chairs, if not for one case that suddenly made me decide. The term of payment for the next semester has come, I sat without money and was going to borrow from the Kaufman, whom I already have to when I met at the Konnogvardeyskomu cadets with whom I came to St. Petersburg, and we were still together overnight at the Society for the Protection of Women. Since then, we have met seldom, but always amicably, exchanged ten words and rushed on. But this time I suddenly gave her all my hesitation. And I'll be annoyed that another day passed and I didn't pick up my brush, and I'm afraid of the future if I quit math, and that I do math because that's the way it should be. Why did I suddenly jump on someone I knew? I don't know. Apparently, such a minute has come. And what is it? Listened to me my cursor (her name is also Lisa), listened carefully, and then somehow shone from under the fur cap eyes: "And you leave her! And so she just said that it suddenly seemed to me that it was easier: to take it and throw it! And then she said that if she had any passion, she would be happy if it was at least a fish feast. "The passion in itself is happiness, and to drown it out in itself, to fight with it - what could be stupider?
But it's not even about her reasoning, to which I could add a lot. It's about simplicity, about ease, which I missed. Really: take a yes and quit! And, by the way, you won't have to pay for another seminar. And not to borrow. There will be time, my God, all you want. And you can think about painting freely, without remorse, without a ban. In short, I decided to do only painting, no matter how hard it may be. I decided - and you can't imagine how easy it was for me. I haven't left the course yet, I passed three exams the other day, I go to an interesting semester on fluorescence. Nothing can stop me from coming back. But I won't come back. It would mean giving up on myself, burying the most precious thing in my life. I realized that all these years I was, in fact, deeply unhappy. Everything was always out of place in my soul, and pretending in front of me that there was no way out was beyond my reach.
And one more thing. My dear, you know what our intimacy means to me. I feel alone among my friends, too. Of course, painting won't replace you, but maybe it's just the way it needs me to be lonely. But enough! So far it's all just words, and it's up to me to make them work. Now - the practical side. I went into an art workshop. The leaders are Dobuzhinsky, Yakovlev, Lancere, Kustodiev and Ostroumova. All this is "The World of Art", and it is very good not only because Dobuzhinsky, for example, speaks a lot to my heart, but because people like him or Lancer are thoughtful about those young people who work in a completely different manner. But, of course, I have to think not about the manner, not about the direction, but about how to hold a pencil in my hand.
11.12.1915.
I acted recklessly - you write: love of painting I took for talent? But, Kostya, how can you be convinced that love is not an abstraction, but the same materially as hunger or thirst? The same passion as opium, from which they say it is impossible to cure. Van Gogh has driven painting mad, and that doesn't surprise me at all. And then, Kostik, why do you think I have no talent? Just in the midst of my hesitation Ivan Reutov came from Moscow, who came to me on an aunt's errand. I showed him my drawings, and he said that I should definitely learn to paint. And finally, he is not the first person to come in from the street and take Dobuzhinsky to his studio!
As for the fact that there are few talented painters among women, so there are not many mathematicians! For example, I know only one thing - Sophia Kovalevskaya. However, it seems that she also traded her math for love, not for painting, right, but for love? Is it my fault that I cannot live without both?
Your letter - alas! - It reminded me of the lectures I often heard from my boss when I was in boarding school. You are badly affected by your lessons. You are used to teaching, learning, teaching, teaching... Don't be angry, my dear.
To be continued...