As a child, I dreamed of going to the Field of Miracles and was determined to go to Yakubovich and get the best gift. Decided to draw Yakubovich in the studio at the drum, he tried very hard, and when he finished, put his masterpiece on the couch and went somewhere. When I returned, I found that one of my parents had already been able to sit on my painting, it was removed and already unfit to give it to Leonid Arkadievich. All my efforts were wasted in vain, I started crying, screaming at my parents and eventually said, “This is what you did? Now Yakubovich will look at the painting and say, "What kind of shit is this?" It still reminds me of it :)