...The wild ground

When a field is being reploughed, the wild ground surfaces. The mould falls underneath in the field and the wild ground covers it. That which used to be the cultured layer - created for a century after the Liberation and during the time of Renaissance - is left under."

won't forget what he once said to his wife: "Susie, Mitko wants to work with one of my plays. He's mad! No one takes my creations anymore." I've read his digests with novels, stories and plays. Raditchkov's world obsessed me so hardly that I loved it and took it as my own. I had the feeling that he wrote personally for me, that he's telling me the stories. I used to have the same feeling as a kid when my grandma told me stories. I was seeing some of his sarabels in colours - like a finished painting. Others - as a performance, third as a movie. Today it's a hard thing to make a one-man exhibition, but the charge of his art gave me strength to overcome all difficulties and fulfill a dream.

Memories of... January

... the most Bulgarian of all months. When the windows of the village are painted in frost and under every awning there's a tight drawn pig skin, at every gateway a magpie stands, in every well lives a water spirit... wolves trample wedding tracks near the village..."
  I showed Raditchkov two of the already finished canvases for my exhibition. His characters were once again alive. We spoke as if we've known each other for a long time. He told me the sarabel of the two frogs. One fell inside a keg of milk and cried out for help. The other told her to continue kicking and fighting. So she did until under her feet there formed a small piece of butter and she crawled out. That's the way she saved herself. He thought me that a person should never lose faith and hope. We were connected by the alive childish flame - sincere, genuine, pure. He used to tell me:

...Now I'm watching the world with those same eyes through which I've seen it as little. That's why the world continues to seem mysterious, secretive, somehow unreal. Now I'm moving just like a little child in an unreal world. I'm not prepared for the world of the grown-ups, where the big games are played and everything is unforgiving and angular."

Noah's Ark

Raditchkov wanted to save the love using his characters, to protect the disappearing  humanity and the disrupted spiritual values. And using his own "Noah's Ark" to take them from the "Time of the wolves" into a better world. He's like a soft and warm piece of clay. You can make anything from it, as long as you have the sense and patience.

... If every one of us had a light of five pennies inside, that would make a lot and if every one had so much love - that would make a lot. What about the millions on the Earth?... A star is not the Universe. It's just a flake of it. But the millions flakes made the Universe truly great. When a planet dies, life starts on another..."

"Words and words" (a short story)

Once upon a time, when I was listening to the old people at my region talking to each other, I had the feeling that they're exchanging gold coins... When I'm listening now as we all speak to each other, I have the feeling that we're exchanging paper bills which you can not use to buy anything! And perhaps that's exactly why we're giving them so willingly to each other - because nothing can be bought with them.
That's enough about a paper bill!"


"The river was still sleeping and swinging between shores in her dream. She was resting from the heat..." - from the novel "Wind of calmness". "The water was coming and coming with no noise, no thunder, silently, almost on toes, without even whisper, and it was taking the ruins." - from the novel "Last summer".

Yordan Raditchkov - the sad optimist with hope hidden deep inside. His words step like a silent river, almost on toes. His art collects the shared moments of a world, as much real, as mystical to build its own Universe. In it every character is unique - these are always the "small" people with their everyday problems. They live in a poor, but nestled home or they're blown by the January wind. They're trying to fly on the wings of their imagination and feel that lifting above the earth is wonderful.

"Human is a sentence written with love, but full of errors."

When You're in Raditckov's realm You see how worthless are everyday details, how small look the houses, characters and...
Yordan Raditchkov
Dimitar Petrov - recollection
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Йордан Радичков
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