Charcoal

I don't think I need to make a comment on this.
It's just... this.
The dirt, and the grey shades, and the breaking ice, and too sharp edges of the graphic silhouettes of the trees and iron railings.

The spring is the time when most Russians suffer from depression, because it feels like living in a charcoal study. Every. Day.

So I feel like I needn't explain the fact I'm sad and easily upset by bad news these days (there are plenty of bad news, really, I cannot just ignore them). I'm just hoping for some colours in this charcoal sketch, and thanks God this dirty spring will be follower by blossoming times, again and again.