Istanbul. Early morning. We're using the navigator. The stop is a former French orphanage. There are no visitors yet, but there are a lot of cats. It's like they're waiting for us. No sooner had we put down our bags of paintings than they started sniffing them.

While my assistants arrange the paintings, I close my eyes and hear the children's voices that have been heard here for 150 years. But time seemed to stand still for the artist. I want to play with these kids. I don't understand what it's like not to have parents. After all, God has given me the best parents in this world. And this makes my feeling even more acute.

But my paintings are not about pain, my paintings are about love, kindness and the power of the human spirit, bringing light to our world. After going through the works of fifty artists from all over the world and seeing their worries and thoughts, I see smiling teachers and children in this garden. I don't feel any pain, and that's why I've planted my pomegranate orchard in this courtyard.

And I will definitely return to this city with new paintings, with new thoughts, and, of course, thoughts coming out of my direction in the art of Philart, combining philosophy and fine art, will resound over the Bosphorus like the cries of seagulls announcing a new person who put art above man himself! After all, a person can express all the best in real art.

Just one day in this garden, spent with paintings, cats and my audience, became the leitmotif of the Istanbul Biennale: "Three-legged Cat". See you soon, Istanbul, the city that does not fall asleep, but always wakes up.

©Alexander Dilbazi