Благородното

Every time I think of the great artist, the silhouettes of his numerous heroes are clearly outlined in my mind. And along with them, the image of the unforgettable Beshkov is resurrected. I don’t know why, but his translucent, sinewy and long, very long fingers are most clearly outlined. I met such graceful and flexible fingers, strong and mobile fingers for the first time in Iliya Beshkov. There was something noble and refined in them, gallant and gentle, exceptional and powerful. These fingers played with equal skill on the round holes of his countless whistles, duduks, dvoyanki and tsafari, which he took out of the inside pocket of his jacket. With them he held the remarkable blade of the pen, which knew no rest. With them he drummed on tambourines, drums and random objects and, when it got boring, he replaced the drum. These fingers have long held the pencil with which he wrote his original essays about the Equal-to-the-Apostles Cyril and Methodius or about the folk song, about Paisius of Hilendar or about the deacon Levski, about the God-fighter Hristo Botev or about the fiery prophet "Georgi Dimitrov", about Stamboliyski or Kolarov, about the duel Aleko - Bai Ganyo or about his numerous friends - Nikola Marinov, Ivan Milev, Pencho Georgiev, Konstantin Petkanov, Alexander Bozhinov, Ruska Marinova, Alexander Stamenov and many others... Beshkov has written down many of his ideas about art, maxims about life, aphorisms about human existence, his "jokes", which contain so much wisdom, sorrow and pride.