My diaries

These are my notebooks that I began to conduct during service in the army, or more precisely, in the Pacific Fleet. For forty years they rode with me in cities and towns, I did not show them almost to anyone, continuing to record "for memory" what seemed interesting to me, and treated them like a working tool. As for my naval diaries, I don’t understand why I didn’t destroy them at one time. Of course, they did not contain secret information. But the one who lived in Soviet times can imagine where my dreams of directing rolled down, this notes of some uncle from Old Square or Aunt from the party committee of Mosfilm come to the eyes. That"s why I hid the diaries all these years. But time has passed. And with such a speed, such a kaleidoscopic whirlwind, the landscape of our external and inner life has changed, which seemed to me - these records made by either pencil, then a fountain pen, then at one end of the country, then in another, become a certain document of awareness of time, history, man