Behind the wall

Foreword

Like majestic mountains, time rises above all that exists, stone by stone, building its timeless path. Civilizations rise only for a moment, like dusty whirlwinds on sandy dunes, disappearing under the blow of time. However, in this boundless emptiness and change, amidst ruins and dust, aspirations and forgotten dreams, burns the unquenchable fire of art. It is a beacon in the ocean of endless waves, inspiring, comforting, reminding us of the infinite flow of time. Art is not just the creation of a creator's hands; it is the breath of the soul, the eternal reflection of human life. It pierces our hearts, like the rays of the morning sun penetrating through the thickets of the dormant forest, illuminating the path in darkness. Like unwavering stars in the boundless sky, art shines brightest in moments of darkness. Through generations and epochs, through storms and turbulent waters of history, it stands, unwavering, like a tree rooted in the deepest depths of the earth. Its roots are swift streams, flowing through time, the touch of which leaves traces in the hearts and souls of people. Art is not just an embellishment of life; it is a living thread that connects us with the boundless past and the uncharted future. Empires come and go, but art is the eternal rock in the sea of change. It holds our hand when everything else crumbles in the whirlwind of time. Art is a window opening onto the vast expanses of imagination. It is a language understood by all peoples of the world. It is the eternal heritage of humanity. And it is a gift that we pass from hand to hand, from generation to generation, as a symbol of our enduring humanity.