In every artist who has matured in form and, what is most important, is not indifferent, not empty within, their unique style is felt. A publication is also an artist. True, the glass separating its work from reality is much more transparent and thinner. It is more difficult for a publication to remain true to itself, its ideals, and dreams. On transparent and smooth glass, plaque and streaks are immediately visible. A publication — unlike an author, who creates alone before the face of the Beautiful, Eternity, and the gigantic skull of Death — is much more subject to the earthly. In a creative feat, a single creator can, dying of hunger, having turned into a shadow, into a skeleton, continue to assemble a mosaic, like V. A. Frolov during the Siege¹... (Note¹. His panel for Avtozavodskaya metro station was evacuated along the Road of Life.) A hungry collective, however, is capable of what a single creator would never even conceive of — rebellion and departure. Separated from the Motherland, from beloved people and its culture, from its language, its books and music, from the silence of the forests and the ringing summer meadows, from dusty roads, stooped villages, and a dear, native panel house — every thought of Russia echoes with s u c h inexpressible pain... How, how can we, who remain, help them?!.. ...We have — only a voice. Please, help... for us.