i work in the citadel of konstantin sergeevich. i adore nadezhdaamanov of the great fashion designer, and suddenly she began to write a play, but because she did not leave in the seventeenth year, she was a supplier. ah. yes, they let me in. so, when we were on tour, in the museum of em hut, and i looked, everything connected with it was left there quite a bit. here she is, she said before she died. eh, i'm probably going to die soon. i have two drops of seals left, my piekha or bitches are called. years in a joke that he told this book that you're in first, but cannot name. stern or two drops? yes, two drops of cat. i wrote a song where she writes about stanislavsky hmm and does not say, well, i came up with, i'll come, this. uh, the worst words, because, if you look at the great stanislavsky, who was turned into an icon, our icon again shows you imagine he wrote a book in the thirties called my life in art. now, if you are anyone now and for actors from playwrights directors. you would write my life in literature, what would happen to you. which