This one is absolutely pure, like a scarlet morning stream. A

This absolutely pure color, like a scarlet morning stream, full of noble joy and royalty, was exactly the proud color that Gray was looking for. There were no mixed shades of fire, no poppy petals, no play of violet or lilac hints; there was also no blue, no shadow - nothing that gives rise to doubt. He blushed like a smile, with the charm of spiritual reflection. Gray was so lost in thought that he forgot about his owner, who was waiting behind him with the tension of a hunting dog who had made a stance. Tired of waiting, the merchant reminded himself of himself with the sound of a torn piece of cloth.

“Enough samples,” Gray said, standing up, “I’ll take this silk.”

- The whole piece? – the merchant asked respectfully doubting. But Gray silently looked at his forehead, which made the owner of the shop become a little more cheeky. - In that case, how many meters?

Gray nodded, inviting him to wait, and calculated the required amount with a pencil on paper.

- Two thousand meters. – He looked around the shelves doubtfully. – Yes, no more than two thousand meters.

- Two? - said the owner, jumping up convulsively, like a spring. - Thousands? Meters? Please sit down, captain. Would you like to take a look, captain, at samples of new materials? As you please. Here are the matches, here is the wonderful tobacco; please. Two thousand... two thousand. “He said a price that had the same relation to the real thing as an oath to a simple “yes,” but Gray was satisfied, since he did not want to bargain on anything. “Amazing, the best silk,” continued the shopkeeper, “a product beyond comparison, only you will find one like this from me.”

When he was finally overcome with delight, Gray agreed with him about the delivery, taking the costs into his own account, paid the bill and left, escorted by the owner with the honors of a Chinese king. Meanwhile, across the street from where the shop was, a wandering musician, tuning his cello, made it speak sadly and well with a quiet bow; his comrade, the flutist, showered the singing of the stream with the babble of a throaty whistle; the simple song with which they announced the yard dormant in the heat reached Gray’s ears, and he immediately understood what he should do next. In general, all these days he was at that happy height of spiritual vision from which he clearly noticed all the hints and clues of reality; Hearing the sounds muffled by the carriages driving, he entered the center of the most important impressions and thoughts caused, in accordance with his character, by this music, already feeling why and how what he had come up with would turn out well. Having passed the alley, Gray walked through the gates of the house where the musical performance took place. By that time the musicians were about to leave; the tall flutist, with an air of downtrodden dignity, waved his hat gratefully at the windows from which the coins were flying out. The cello had already returned under its owner's arm; he, wiping his sweaty brow, waited for the flutist.

- Bah, it’s you, Zimmer! - Gray told him, recognizing the violinist, who in the evenings had fun with his great game sailors, guests of the “Money for a Barrel” tavern. - How did you cheat on the violin?

“Reverend captain,” Zimmer countered smugly, “I play everything that sounds and cracks.” When I was young I was a musical clown. Now I am drawn to art, and I see with grief that I have ruined an extraordinary talent. That’s why, out of late greed, I love two at once: the viola and the violin. I play the cello during the day, and the violin in the evenings, that is, it’s like I’m crying, sobbing about my lost talent. Would you like me to treat you to some wine, eh? The cello is my Carmen, and the violin.

“Assol,” said Gray. Zimmer didn't hear.

“Yes,” he nodded, “solos on cymbals or copper pipes are another matter.” However, what do I need?! Let the clowns of art act - I know that fairies always rest in the violin and cello.

– What’s hidden in my “tur-lu-rlu”? - asked the approaching flutist, a tall fellow with sheep's blue eyes and a blond beard. - Well, tell me?

- It depends on how much you drank in the morning. Sometimes it’s a bird, sometimes it’s alcohol fumes. Captain, this is my companion Duss; I told him how you waste gold when you drink, and he is in love with you in absentia.

“Yes,” said Duss, “I love gesture and generosity.” But I am cunning, do not believe my vile flattery.

“That’s it,” Gray said, laughing. “I don’t have much time, but I’m impatient.” I suggest you make good money. Assemble an orchestra, but not from dandies with the ceremonial faces of the dead, who are in musical literalism or

- what’s even worse is that in sound gastronomy they have forgotten about the soul of music and are quietly killing the stages with their intricate noises - no. Gather your cooks and footmen who make the simple hearts cry; gather your vagabonds. The sea and love do not tolerate pedants. I would love to sit with you, and not even with just one bottle, but I have to go. I have a lot to do. Take this and sing it to the letter A. If you like my proposal, come to the “Secret” in the evening, it is located not far from the head dam.

- Agree! – Zimmer cried, knowing that Gray was paying like a king. - Duss, bow, say “yes” and twirl your hat for joy! Captain Gray wants to get married!

“Yes,” Gray said simply. “I’ll tell you all the details on The Secret.” You...

- For the letter A! – Duss, nudging Zimmer with his elbow, winked at Gray. – But... there are so many letters in the alphabet! Please give me something for fit...

Gray gave more money. The musicians left. Then he went into the commission office and gave a secret order for a large sum– complete urgently, within six days. While Gray returned to his ship, the office agent was already boarding the ship. In the evening the silk arrived; five sailing ships hired by Gray accommodated sailors; Letika had not yet returned and the musicians had not arrived; While waiting for them, Gray went to talk with Panten.

We love fairy tales, but we don’t believe in them, giving our thoughts to everyday life.
On this quiet Sunday evening, when there is a chance to raise your eyes from the gray dust of worries and everyday life, I suggest re-reading a couple of fragments from Alexander Green’s story “Scarlet Sails”.
Of course, everyone has seen the film, but these lines will help us remember that we, too, can do real miracles.
With my own hands.

Konstantin ZHUKOV

In the evening the silk arrived; five sailing ships hired by Gray accommodated sailors; Letika had not yet returned and the musicians had not arrived; While waiting for them, Gray went to talk with Panten.
It should be noted that Gray sailed with the same crew for several years. At first, the captain surprised the sailors with the vagaries of unexpected flights, stops - sometimes for months - in the most non-commercial and deserted places, but gradually they were imbued with Gray's "grayism". He often sailed with only ballast, refusing to take advantageous freight just because he did not like the cargo offered. No one could persuade him to carry soap, nails, machine parts and other things that are gloomily silent in the holds, evoking lifeless ideas of boring necessity. But he willingly loaded fruits, porcelain, animals, spices, tea, tobacco, coffee, silk, valuable tree species: black, sandalwood, palm. All this corresponded to the aristocracy of his imagination, creating a picturesque atmosphere; It is not surprising that the crew of the Secret, thus brought up in the spirit of originality, looked somewhat down on all other ships, shrouded in the smoke of shallow profit. Still, this time Gray met questions in the faces; The stupidest sailor knew perfectly well that there was no need to make repairs in the forest riverbed.

It was a white morning hour; There was a thin vapor in the huge forest, full of strange visions. An unknown hunter, who had just left his fire, was moving along the river; the gap of its airy voids shone through the trees, but the diligent hunter did not approach them, examining the fresh trail of a bear heading towards the mountains.
The sudden sound rushed through the trees with the surprise of an alarming pursuit; it was the clarinet that sang. The musician, coming out on deck, played a fragment of a melody, full of sad, drawn-out repetition. The sound trembled like a voice hiding grief; intensified, smiled with a sad overflow and broke off. A distant echo dimly hummed the same melody.
The hunter, marking the trail with a broken branch, made his way to the water. The fog has not yet cleared; in it the outlines of a huge ship faded, slowly turning towards the mouth of the river. Its furled sails came to life, hanging in festoons, straightening out and covering the masts with helpless shields of huge folds; Voices and footsteps were heard. The coastal wind, trying to blow, lazily fiddled with the sails; Finally, the warmth of the sun produced the desired effect; the air pressure intensified, dissipated the fog and poured out along the yards into light scarlet forms full of roses. Pink shadows slid across the whiteness of the masts and rigging, everything was white except the outstretched, smoothly moving sails, the color of deep joy.
The hunter, looking from the shore, rubbed his eyes for a long time until he was convinced that he saw exactly this way and not otherwise. The ship disappeared around the bend, and he still stood and watched; then, silently shrugging his shoulders, he went to his bear.
While the "Secret" was moving along the riverbed, Gray stood at the helm, not trusting the sailor to take the helm - he was afraid of the shallows. Panten sat next to him, in a new cloth pair, in a new shiny cap, shaved and humbly pouting. He still did not feel any connection between the scarlet decoration and Gray's direct goal.
“Now,” said Gray, “when my sails are red, the wind is good, and my heart is more happy than an elephant at the sight of a small bun, I will try to tune you with my thoughts, as I promised in Lisse.” Please note - I do not think you are stupid or stubborn, no; you are an exemplary sailor, and that is worth a lot. But you, like the majority, listen to the voices of all the simple truths through the thick glass of life; they scream, but you won't hear. I do what exists as an ancient idea of ​​the beautiful and unrealizable, and which, in essence, is as feasible and possible as a country walk. Soon you will see a girl who cannot and should not get married otherwise than in the way that I am developing before your eyes.
He concisely conveyed to the sailor what we know well, ending the explanation like this: “You see how closely fate, will and character traits are intertwined here; I come to the one who is waiting and can wait only for me, but I don’t want anyone else but her, maybe precisely because thanks to her I understood one simple truth. It is about doing so-called miracles with your own hands. When the main thing for a person is to receive the dearest nickel, it is easy to give this nickel, but when the soul conceals the seed of a fiery plant - a miracle, give him this miracle if you are able. New soul He will have a new one for you too. When the head of the prison himself releases the prisoner, when the billionaire gives the scribe a villa, an operetta singer and a safe, and the jockey at least once holds his horse for another horse who is unlucky, then everyone will understand how pleasant it is, how inexpressibly wonderful. But there are no less miracles: a smile, fun, forgiveness, and - said in time, the right word. To own this is to own everything. As for me, our beginning - mine and Assol's - will remain for us forever in the scarlet reflection of the sails created by the depths of the heart, which knows what love is. Do you understand me?
- Yes, captain. - Panten grunted, wiping his mustache with a neatly folded clean handkerchief. - I understood everything. You touched me. I’ll go downstairs and ask for forgiveness from Nix, whom I scolded yesterday for the sunken bucket. And I’ll give him tobacco - he lost his at cards.
Before Gray, somewhat surprised by such a quick practical result of his words, had time to say anything, Panten had already thundered down the ramp and sighed somewhere distantly. Gray turned around, looking up; the scarlet sails silently tore above him; the sun at their seams shone with purple smoke. The "Secret" was heading out to sea, moving away from the shore. There was no doubt about Gray's sonorous soul - no dull sounds of alarm, no noise of petty worries; calmly, like a sail, he rushed towards an amazing goal; full of those thoughts that are ahead of words.
By noon, the smoke of a military cruiser appeared on the horizon, the cruiser changed course and from a distance of half a mile raised a signal - “to drift!”
“Brothers,” Gray said to the sailors, “they won’t fire at us, don’t be afraid; they simply don't believe their eyes.
He ordered to drift. Panten, screaming as if on fire, brought the Secret out of the wind; the ship stopped, while a steam boat with a crew and a lieutenant in white gloves rushed away from the cruiser; The lieutenant, stepping onto the deck of the ship, looked around in amazement and went with Gray to the cabin, from where an hour later he went, strangely waving his hand and smiling, as if he had received a rank, back to the blue cruiser. Apparently, this time Gray had more success than with the simple-minded Panten, since the cruiser, after hesitating, hit the horizon with a mighty volley of fireworks, the rapid smoke of which, piercing the air with huge sparkling balls, dissipated in wisps over calm water. All day long a certain semi-festive stupor reigned on the cruiser; the mood was unofficial, downcast - under the sign of love, which was talked about everywhere - from the salon to the engine hold, and the sentry of the mine compartment asked a passing sailor:
- "Tom, how did you get married?" “I caught her by the skirt when she wanted to jump out of the window from me,” said Tom and proudly twirled his mustache.
For some time the "Secret" sailed on an empty sea, without shores; By noon the distant shore opened up. Taking the telescope, Gray stared at Caperna. If not for the row of roofs, he would have seen Assol in the window of one house, sitting behind a book. She was reading; A greenish bug crawled along the page, stopping and rising on its front legs with an independent and domestic look. Twice already he had been blown onto the windowsill without annoyance, from where he appeared again trustingly and freely, as if he wanted to say something. This time he managed to get almost to the girl’s hand holding the corner of the page; here he got stuck on the word “look”, stopped doubtfully, expecting a new squall, and, indeed, barely avoided trouble, since Assol had already exclaimed: “Again, the bug... fool!..” - and wanted to decisively blow the guest away grass, but suddenly a random transition of her gaze from one roof to another revealed to her a white ship with scarlet sails on the blue sea gap of the street space.
She shuddered, leaned back, froze; then she jumped up sharply with her heart sagging dizzily, bursting into uncontrollable tears of inspired shock. The "Secret" at this time was rounding a small cape, keeping to the shore at the angle of the port side; soft music flowed into the blue day from the white deck under the fire of scarlet silk; music of rhythmic overflows, conveyed not entirely successfully by the words known to everyone: “Pour, pour glasses - and let’s drink, friends, to love”... - In its simplicity, exultingly, excitement unfolded and rumbled.
Not remembering how she left the house, Assol fled to the sea, caught by the irresistible wind of the event; at the first corner she stopped almost exhausted; her legs were giving way, her breathing was faltering and extinguished, her consciousness was hanging on by a thread. Beside herself with fear of losing her will, she stamped her foot and recovered. At times the roof or the fence hid the scarlet sails from her; then, fearing that they had disappeared like a simple ghost, she hurried to pass the painful obstacle and, seeing the ship again, stopped to breathe a sigh of relief.
Meanwhile, such confusion, such excitement, such general unrest occurred in Caperna, which would not yield to the affect of the famous earthquakes. Never before had a large ship approached this shore; the ship had those same sails whose name sounded like a mockery; now they glowed clearly and irrefutably with the innocence of a fact that refutes all the laws of existence and common sense. Men, women, children rushed to the shore in a hurry, who was wearing what; the inhabitants called to each other from courtyard to courtyard, jumped on each other, screamed and fell; Soon a crowd formed by the water, and Assol quickly ran into this crowd. While she was away, her name flew among people with nervous and gloomy anxiety, with angry fear. The men did most of the talking; The stunned women sobbed in a strangled, snake-like hiss, but if one began to crack, the poison got into the head. As soon as Assol appeared, everyone fell silent, everyone moved away from her in fear, and she was left alone in the middle of the emptiness of the sultry sand, confused, ashamed, happy, with a face no less scarlet than her miracle, helplessly stretching out her hands to the tall ship.
A boat full of tanned oarsmen separated from him; among them stood someone whom, as it seemed to her now, she knew, vaguely remembered from childhood. He looked at her with a smile that warmed and hurried her. But thousands of last funny fears overcame Assol; mortally afraid of everything - mistakes, misunderstandings, mysterious and harmful interference - she ran waist-deep into the warm swaying waves, shouting: “I’m here, I’m here!” It's me!
Then Zimmer waved his bow - and the same melody rang through the nerves of the crowd, but this time in a full, triumphant chorus. From the excitement, the movement of clouds and waves, the shine of the water and the distance, the girl could almost no longer distinguish what was moving: she, the ship or the boat - everything was moving, spinning and falling.
But the oar splashed sharply near her; she raised her head. Gray bent down and her hands grabbed his belt. Assol closed her eyes; then, quickly opening her eyes, she boldly smiled at his shining face and, out of breath, said: “Absolutely like that.”
- And you too, my child! - Gray said, taking the wet jewel out of the water. - Here I come. Do you recognize me?
She nodded, holding onto his belt, with a new soul and tremulously closed eyes. Happiness was in her fluffy kitten. When Assol decided to open her eyes, the rocking of the boat, the shine of the waves, the approaching, powerfully tossing board of the Secret - everything was a dream, where the light and water swayed, swirling, like the play of sunbeams on a wall streaming with rays. Not remembering how, she climbed the ladder to strong hands Gray. The deck, covered and hung with carpets, in the scarlet splashes of the sails, was like a heavenly garden. And soon Assol saw that she was standing in the cabin - in a room that could not be better.
Then from above, shaking and burying the heart in its triumphant cry, huge music rushed again. Again Assol closed her eyes, afraid that all this would disappear if she looked. Gray took her hands and, knowing now where it was safe to go, she hid her face, wet with tears, on the chest of her friend, who had come so magically. Carefully, but with laughter, himself shocked and surprised that an inexpressible, inaccessible precious minute had come, Gray lifted up by the chin this long-dreamed-of face, and the girl’s eyes finally opened clearly. They had all the best of a person.
- Will you take my Longren to us? - she said.
- Yes. - And he kissed her so hard following his iron “yes” that she laughed.
Now we will step away from them, knowing that they need to be together alone. There are a lot of words in the world different languages and different dialects, but with all of them, even remotely, you cannot convey what they said to each other on that day.
Meanwhile, on the deck near the mainmast, near a worm-eaten barrel with a broken bottom, revealing a hundred-year-old dark grace, the entire crew was waiting. Atwood stood; Panten sat decorously, beaming like a newborn. Gray rose up, gave a sign to the orchestra and, taking off his cap, was the first to scoop up holy wine with a cut glass, in the song of golden trumpets.
“Well, here...” he said, finishing drinking, then threw the glass. - Now drink, drink everyone; He who does not drink is my enemy.
He didn't have to repeat those words. While the "Secret" was moving away from Caperna, who had been horrified forever, at full speed, under full sail, the crush around the barrel surpassed everything that happens on great holidays.

When it began to get light the next day, the ship was far from Kaperna. Part of the crew fell asleep and remained lying on the deck, overcome by Gray’s wine; Only the helmsman and the watchman remained on their feet, and the pensive and intoxicated Zimmer, who was sitting in the stern with the neck of his cello under his chin. He sat, quietly moved his bow, making the strings speak in a magical, unearthly voice, and thought about happiness...

My english and Turkish friends are always asking me: why Russians became so inspired and dreamy looking on each yacht or gulet with red sails.
The answer is inside a story.
I"m proudly recommend this evergreen novel by Russian writer Alexander Grin about a little girl named Assol, who meets a wizard one day. The wizard tells her that a ship with red sails will arrive -- sometime in the future - to take her away to a new, happy life with a dashing young prince. She holds onto this prediction in spite of taunts and the ridicule of her neighbors. Meanwhile, the son of a local nobleman grows up to become a sea captain and falls in love with Assol. Sure enough, he decides the only way to win her heart is to unfurl red sails and head into port.

After reading you will have an opportunity to become more close to understanding of Russian soul.
Konstantin Zhukov

IN modern society there was a belief that potential opportunities men and women are the same, they are equally talented and can master any professional skill. The irony is that today science has accumulated so much indisputable evidence to the contrary that it is no longer possible to ignore it.

The truth is that men and women are different from each other. They are no worse, no better friend friend - they are different. And in order to make society healthier and stronger, it is necessary to recognize and take into account the individual abilities of both sexes. This is exactly what our conversation will be about, and since for the vast majority of people the main source of information is vision, this is where we will start. So…

Color perception

Remember how in the novel “Scarlet Sails” the main character went in search of the necessary fabric? - “Gray visited three shops, attaching special importance to the accuracy of the choice, since in his mind he already saw the desired color and shade. In the first two shops he was shown silks of market colors, intended to satisfy simple vanity; in the third he found examples of complex effects. Gray patiently sorted the packages, put them aside, moved them, unfolded them, and looked at the light with so many scarlet stripes that the counter littered with them seemed to be on fire.

A purple wave lay on the toe of the boot; there was a pink glow on his hands and face. Rummaging through the light resistance of silk, he distinguished colors: red, pale pink and dark pink, thick boils of cherry, orange and dark red tones; here were shades of all powers and meanings, different in their apparent kinship, like the words: “charming”, “beautiful”, “magnificent”, “perfect” ... Finally, one color attracted the attention of the buyer. This absolutely pure color, like a scarlet morning stream, full of noble joy and royalty, was exactly the proud color that Gray was looking for. There were no mixed shades of fire, no poppy petals, no play of violet or lilac hints; there was also no blue, no shadow - nothing that gives rise to doubt.”

In fact, the vast majority of men hardly understand what is being discussed in this chapter: they do not distinguish such shades, but see only seven simple colors of the rainbow. But women can easily distinguish the color of ivory or sea green, mauve or apple green. It's all about the conical cells that perceive color scheme. Their source is the X chromosome. Because a woman has two X chromosomes, she has a higher number of cone cells compared to a man. In the event of a defect on one of the chromosomes, the situation is saved by the second chromosome - therefore, color blindness is much less common among women.

Tunnel or peripheral?

A woman not only has more conical cells in the eye shell, but also wider peripheral vision compared to a man. She, as the keeper of the hearth, has a program embedded in her brain that allows her to clearly see a sector of at least 45 degrees on each side of her head, that is, right and left, as well as up and down. Many women's effective peripheral vision reaches a full 180 degrees. This is necessary in order not to let small children out of sight even during household chores, and also to notice danger in time - if a snake crawled into the cave, etc.

A man, as a hunter, needs to catch the target with his eye and not let it out of sight, and at a fairly large distance. His vision evolved to an almost limited vision as nothing had to distract him from his goal. Therefore, a man's eyes are larger than a woman's and his brain provides him with tunnel vision. He is able to see clearly and clearly straight ahead, but long distance, - that is, his eyes can be likened to binoculars. That's why modern man can easily find a distant pub, but cannot find an item in a closet, chest of drawers or refrigerator. The following conversation with a man standing in front of an open refrigerator door is probably something every woman in the world has had at some point:

Him: Where's the butter?
She: In the refrigerator.
Him: I’m looking in the refrigerator now, but there’s no oil there.
She: It's there - I put it there ten minutes ago.
Him: No, you must have put it somewhere else. There is no oil in the refrigerator. This is clear.
After these words, She enters the kitchen, puts her hand into the refrigerator and, like a magician, a stick of butter appears in her hand.

This makes the man feel at times as if he is being joked about, and he accuses the woman of always hiding things from him. Socks, shoes, underwear, jam, butter, car keys, wallets - they are all lying there, the man simply cannot see them. Having a large viewing sector, a woman can take in most of refrigerator space without even moving your head. The man moves his eyes left and right and up and down, as if scanning the space in search of a “disappeared” object. A woman will spend much less stress if she understands a man’s problems associated with his visual characteristics. And for a man there will be less reason to be nervous if after the woman’s words “This thing is in the closet!” he will believe her and continue his search.

In an office environment, men experience much more eye fatigue than women because their vision is designed for distance viewing and must constantly be refocused on a computer screen or newspaper text. A woman's eyes are better suited for close-up vision, which allows her to work on fine details for much longer. In addition, the programming of her brain gives her superiority in cases where she needs to identify small details in a picture of a computer screen or, say, thread a needle.

Ability to see in the dark

Although women see better at night, this only applies to small details in a close, wide field. But many women cannot distinguish on which side of the road oncoming traffic is moving. A man's eyes are better adapted to tracking a distant object in a narrow field. This vision allows a man to highlight and identify the movement of other cars on the road, both in front and behind. This gives him much better - and therefore safer driving - long-range night vision. Practical conclusion: when alternating behind the wheel on a long trip, it is better for a woman to spend the day and a man for the night.

title: Buy: feed_id: 3854 pattern_id: 1079 book_author: Green Alexander book_name: Scarlet Sails
stuck in the middle of the path and therefore torn by the clothes of passers-by. Big beetle
clung to the bell, bending the plant and falling, but stubbornly pushing
paws. “Shake off the fat passenger,” Assol advised. Beetle, exactly
I couldn’t resist and flew to the side with a crash. So, worried, trembling and shining,
she approached the hillside, hiding in its thickets from the meadow
space, but now surrounded by her true friends, who are her
I knew this - they speak in a deep voice. They were large old trees among honeysuckle and hazel. Their dangling
the branches touched the upper leaves of the bushes. In the calmly gravitating large foliage
There were white cones of flowers in the chestnut trees, their aroma mixed with the smell of dew and
resin. The path, strewn with protrusions of slippery roots, now fell, now
climbed the slope. Assol felt at home; greeted
trees as with people, that is, by shaking their wide leaves. She walked, whispering
now mentally, now in words: “Here you are, here is another you; there are many of you, my brothers! I
I'm coming, brothers, I'm in a hurry, let me in. I recognize you all, remember and honor you all.”
The "brothers" majestically stroked her with whatever they could - with leaves - and in a kindred manner
creaked in response. She got out, her feet dirty with earth, to a cliff above the sea
and stood on the edge of the cliff, out of breath from hasty walking. Deep invincible
faith, rejoicing, foamed and rustled in her. She scattered her gaze behind her
horizon, from where she returned back with the light sound of a coastal wave,
proud of the cleanliness of the flight. Meanwhile the sea, outlined by a golden horizon
thread, still asleep; only under the cliff, in the puddles of the coastal holes, rose and
the water was falling. The steel color of the sleeping ocean near the shore turned into blue and
black. Behind the golden thread, the sky, flashing, shone with a huge fan of light; white
the clouds began to turn faintly red. Subtle, divine colors glowed in
them. A tremulous snowy whiteness lay in the black distance; the foam glittered and
a crimson rip, flaring up in the middle of a golden thread, threw it across the ocean, at the feet of
Assol, scarlet ripples. She sat with her legs tucked up and her arms around her knees. Leaning carefully towards
sea, she looked at the horizon big eyes, in which there are no longer any
nothing grown up, through the eyes of a child. Everything she had been waiting for so long and passionately,
it was done there - at the end of the world. In the land of distant abysses she saw an underwater
hill; climbing plants flowed upward from its surface; among them round
the leaves, pierced at the edge of the stem, shone with fancy flowers. Upper leaves
glittered on the surface of the ocean; the one who knew nothing, as Assol knew,
I saw only awe and brilliance. A ship rose from the thicket; he floated up and stopped in the middle
dawn From this distance he was visible as clear as clouds. Scattering fun, he
rose, blood, lips, scarlet velvet and crimson fire burned like wine. Ship
went straight to Assol. The wings of foam fluttered under the powerful pressure of its keel; already
standing up, the girl pressed her hands to her chest, as a wonderful play of light turned into a swell;
the sun rose, and the bright fullness of the morning tore away the veils from everything that
basked, stretching on the sleepy ground. The girl sighed and looked around. The music stopped, but Assol was still in
the power of her sonorous choir. This impression gradually weakened, then became
memories and, finally, just fatigue. She lay down on the grass, yawned and
Blissfully closing her eyes, she fell asleep - truly, strong, like a young nut,
sleep, without worries and dreams. She was awakened by a fly wandering over her bare foot. Restlessly turning his leg,
Assol woke up; sitting, she pinned up her disheveled hair, so the ring
Gray was reminded of himself, but considering him nothing more than a stalk stuck
between her fingers, she straightened them; since the interference did not disappear, she impatiently
raised her hand to her eyes and straightened up, instantly jumping up with the force of a spray of
fountain. Gray's radiant ring glittered on her finger, as if on someone else's - not her own.
she could admit at that moment, she couldn’t feel her finger. - "Whose is this
joke? Whose joke? - she quickly cried. - Am I dreaming? May be,
found it and forgot?" Grabbing the right hand with the left hand, on which there was a ring,
She looked around in amazement, torturing the sea and green thickets with her gaze; But
no one moved, no one hid in the bushes, and in the blue, far-illuminated
there was no sign of the sea, and a blush covered Assol, and the voices of the heart
They said a prophetic “yes”. There was no explanation for what happened, but without words or thoughts
She found them in her strange feeling, and the ring became close to her. All
trembling, she pulled it off her finger; holding it in a handful like water, I examined it
him she - with all her soul, with all her heart, with all her jubilation and clear superstition
youth, then, hiding behind her bodice, Assol buried her face in her palms, from under which
a smile burst uncontrollably, and, lowering her head, she slowly walked back
Expensive. So, by chance, as people who can read and write say, Gray and
Assol found each other on the morning of a summer day full of inevitability.
V COMBAT PREPARATIONS
When Gray climbed onto the deck of the Secret, he stood for several minutes
motionless, stroking his head on the forehead with his hand, which meant extreme
confusion. Absent-mindedness - a cloudy movement of feelings - was reflected in his
face with the emotionless smile of a sleepwalker. His assistant Panten was walking along the
Deck with a plate of fried fish; seeing Gray, he noticed a strange condition
captain. - Are you hurt, perhaps? - he asked carefully. - Where were you? What
did you see? However, this is, of course, your business. The broker offers favorable freight;
with a bonus. What’s the matter with you?.. “Thank you,” Gray said, sighing, “as if I’m untied.” - Exactly for me
the sounds of your simple, intelligent voice were missing. It's like cold water.
Panten, tell the people that today we are lifting anchor and moving into the mouth
Liliana, about ten miles from here. Its current is interrupted by continuous shoals.
You can only get into the mouth from the sea. Come get the map. Don't take a pilot.
That's all for now... Yes, I need profitable freight like I need last year's snow. You can
pass this on to the broker. I'm going to the city, where I'll stay until evening. - What happened? - Absolutely nothing, Panten. I want you to take note of my
desire to avoid any questions. When the moment comes, I will let you know
what's the matter. Tell the sailors that repairs are to be made; that the local dock is busy. “Okay,” Panten said senselessly to the departing Gray’s back. - Will
completed. Although the captain's orders were quite clear, the assistant's eyes widened.
and restlessly rushed with the plate to his cabin, muttering: “Panten, you
puzzled. Does he want to try smuggling? Aren't we performing under
black pirate flag?" But here Panten got entangled in the wildest
assumptions. While he was nervously destroying the fish, Gray went down to the cabin,
took the money and, having crossed the bay, appeared in the shopping districts of Lissa. Now he acted decisively and calmly, knowing everything down to the last detail.
ahead on a wonderful path. Every movement - thought, action - warmed him
the subtle pleasure of artistic work. His plan came together instantly and
convex. His concepts of life were subjected to that last attack of the chisel, after
whose marble is calm in its beautiful radiance. Gray visited three shops, attaching particular importance to the accuracy of selection,
because in my mind I already saw the desired color and shade. In the first two shops he
showed silks of market colors, intended to satisfy the simple
vanity; in the third he found examples of complex effects. Shopkeeper
happily fussed, laying out the stale materials, but Gray was serious,
like an anatomist. He patiently sorted the packages, put them aside, moved them, unrolled them.
and looked at the light with so many scarlet stripes that the counter, littered with them,
seemed to be on fire. A purple wave lay on the toe of Gray's boot; in his arms
and a pink glow shone on her face. Rummaging through the light resistance of silk, he
distinguished colors: red, pale pink and dark pink, thick boils
cherry, orange and dark red tones; there were shades of all the forces and
meanings, different - in their imaginary relationship, like the words:
“charming” - “wonderful” - “magnificent” - “perfect”; in folds
hints were hidden, inaccessible to the language of sight, but the true scarlet color did not
presented itself to the eyes of our captain; what the shopkeeper brought was good, but
did not elicit a clear and firm “yes.” Finally, one color attracted the disarmed
buyer attention; he sat down in a chair by the window, pulled out of the noisy silk
the long end, threw it on his knees and, lounging, with a pipe in his teeth, began
contemplatively motionless. This one is absolutely pure, like a scarlet morning stream, full of noble
fun and royal color was exactly the proud color that
Gray was looking for. There were no mixed shades of fire, poppy petals, games
purple or lilac hints; there was also no blue, no shadow - nothing,
which is doubtful. He blushed like a smile, with the charm of spiritual reflection.
Gray was so lost in thought that he forgot about his owner, who was waiting behind him with
with the tension of a hunting dog making a stance. Tired of waiting, merchant
reminded me of myself with the crack of a torn piece of material. “Enough samples,” Gray said, standing up, “I’ll take this silk.” - The whole piece? - the merchant asked respectfully doubting. But Gray is silent
looked at his forehead, which made the owner of the shop become a little more cheeky. - In this
case, how many meters? Gray nodded, inviting him to wait, and calculated with a pencil on paper
required quantity. - Two thousand meters. - He looked around the shelves doubtfully. - Yes, no more than two
thousand meters. - Two? - said the owner, jumping up convulsively, like a spring. - Thousands?
Meters? Please sit down, captain. Would you like to take a look, captain, at some samples?
new matters? As you please. Here are the matches, here is the wonderful tobacco; please
you. Two thousand... two thousand. - He said the price had the same
attitude to the real one, like an oath to a simple “yes,” but Gray was pleased, so
how I didn’t want to bargain on anything. - Amazing, the best silk, -
continued the shopkeeper, “the product is beyond comparison, only you will find one like this at my place.” When he was finally overcome with delight, Gray agreed with him about
delivery, taking the costs into his own account, paid the bill and left, escorted

Red is one of three of the primary colors (the others are blue and yellow). This color has many shades - from light pink to red-brown.

Alexander Green spoke about them so excellently in his “Scarlet Sails” that we can only repeat these magnificent lines.

“Gray looked at the light with so many scarlet stripes, that the counter, littered with them, seemed to burst into flames. A purple wave lay on the toe of Gray's boot; there was a pink glow on his hands and face.
Rummaging through the light resistance of the silk, he distinguished colors: red, pale pink and dark pink;

thick boils of cherry, orange and dark red tones; here were shades of all powers and meanings, different in their imaginary kinship, like the words: “charming” - “beautiful” - “magnificent” - “perfect”;

There were hints hidden in the folds, inaccessible to the language of vision, but the true scarlet color did not appear to the eyes of our captain for a long time... Finally, one color attracted the disarmed attention of the buyer... This completely pure, like a scarlet morning stream, full of noble fun and royalty, the color was exactly that proud color, which Gray was looking for.
There were no mixed shades of fire, no poppy petals, no play of violet or lilac hints; there was also no blue, no shadow - nothing that gives rise to doubt. He blushed like a smile, with the charm of spiritual reflection.”

Red is the most active, creating warm mood And spectacular interiors, used in finishing almost all rooms. However it should be used with caution because it can be overly stimulating and emotional. This color is more suitable for the common rooms of the apartment - the living room, office, fireplace room, hallway or hall, that is, where the most active life of the family takes place. Keep in mind that a room decorated in red colors will look smaller and lower.

The interior of a living room or office will turn out successful and beautiful, designed in various shades of red - from pale gold to dark terracotta, since the combination of gold and red is always identified with power, beauty, and power.

Red, along with blue and yellow, is strongly associated with a children's room, fun games and the absence of everyday worries. This emotional effect is achieved through contrasts, but psychologists do not recommend using it too actively here. In the nursery, it is especially necessary to observe moderation - too much can cause irritation and even stress for the child. Red in this room is acceptable only as individual color contrasts, diluted with a maximum of neutral and muted ones.

It should also be used sparingly in bedrooms, since it has strong energy. Having reached the bedroom, we cannot help but say that since ancient times, color has served as a lure in love games, and here the palm belongs to the most romantic color - red. It is no coincidence that he was chosen as a symbol of Valentine's Day - Valentine's Day. However, if we talk about interiors, the romantic mood in them is created not by the color red, but by its pink shades, from light to dark. Pink tones, by the way, have an amazing property: they neutralize the aggressiveness lurking in many of us.

Of course, purple and its lilac shades can be called romantic, and also the color of garnet - they have passion and unpredictability. The romantic palette also includes light orange tones - apricot and peach, symbolizing the purity of feelings. Of course, this is largely an individual matter. Maybe some people find the color green sexy. So what should we do then? And the same thing they do in the red bedroom...

Red tones are present in the so-called intellectual palette, that is, they are believed to stimulate the intellect. True, this does not mean pure color, but its shades that are as close as possible to the color of nature or complex - say, cranberry or the color of Burgundy wine. A catchy combination of red, orange and dark yellow energizes the interior. Turning into pink, red becomes feminine, and as it darkens, on the contrary, it becomes masculine. When mixed with yellow, it turns into a cheerful orange, and with blue - into a mysterious purple.

Contrasting combinations are modern and interesting, although not everyone would dare to combine red, for example, with azure blue or green.

But the combination of pure and clear shades of red with white and its “relatives” is used most often, and almost always it looks very original. Radiate vitality pulsating red very well coexists with white, symbolizing rigor, purity of lines and minimalism. This combination is called royal. There may be two solutions - red furniture against a background of white walls or white furniture against a background of red walls. But in any case, there should be less red color so that the “spectacularity” does not contradict the comfort and functionality of the space.

The view of this color in the cultures of different peoples is different. The Chinese, for example, have always loved it, considered it a symbol of longevity, and wedding dresses for brides were made from red fabric. The ancient Romans believed that red was a symbol of strength, power, and authority. These associations were continued in the rituals of the Catholic Church. The color red is present on the flags of many countries. IN modern history he often symbolized Political Views left-wing extremists.

Those who are in love with the color red are characterized as active and powerful individuals. They strive to take from life everything that brings joy and pleasure. A “red” person loves to look at others and show off themselves. He is fickle in his personal life and always hopes that he will meet someone even more suitable. At the same time, they strive to romantic love. They are courageous, love and know how to lead people, make decisions quickly and firmly. Such people are driven through life by curiosity and the desire to experience new sensations. The statements and actions of fans of the color red sometimes outstrip their thoughts. It is difficult for them to contain their emotions, so they often find themselves in conflict situations.

Brave people of this color are not afraid. Yes, apparently, there are a few of them, brave ones. A completely red interior is a rare occurrence. But still there are such people! Give them everything red: the floor, the front doors, the blinds, the refrigerator, even a vase, even the flowers in it.

If we talk about styles, then most often red is present in exotic or oriental styles. For example, if you love the culture of distant and hot Mexico, red will be perfect for you; colors there are selected from the warm part of the spectrum. Red is also characteristic of the Empire and Baroque styles with its lush sensuality. The color of theatrical velvet, venous blood and fire - the interior is almost like Shakespeare. Dramatic color. It is often used in the interiors of theaters and concert halls, and can be very advantageously and effectively used in bars, restaurants, and discos.

Red allows you to create many effects, enlivens the interior, excites people, and creates an atmosphere of warmth. But it requires a certain amount of courage and self-confidence from the designer. Only a virtuoso can work with strong colors: the slightest mistake and the palette will be flashy. World-famous professionals, especially furniture designers, adore red: in their works it often becomes a touch that can add chic and luxury to the interior, and unusualness to the most ordinary thing. It’s a pity that the limited format of our newsletter does not allow us to show you many amazing and wonderful examples of “red” fantasy.

Of course, everyone has their own perception of color, and absolute truth doesn't exist here. When composing the palette of your interior, do not restrain yourself by generally accepted rules - be guided by your attitude and the experience of professionals.