Masha was always deeply impressed by Caucasian abundance. Abundance of sun, warmth, flavors and kindness — especially, as it contrasted Masha's Leningrad, swamp-born inner world. My father Melvar, himself an Armenian, shared her feelings: «In Armenia, there is no light, there is the Sun — the source of light, source of hallucinations, straightforward without any riddles. Armenians contemplate the Deity and chant him. However, in the North, there is a mystery, there is the Light, not the Sun. After all, the cause of all life is light, not the Sun, life is selfish, earthly and in itself bears the secret of its inception».