Ever wondered if freedom’s just code running in the background?
We doomscroll through highlight reels, hearting borrowed aspirations—mistaking motion for meaning. But real freedom? It’s the courage to close the app… and witness the unfiltered world breathing beyond your screen.
Left: V. I. Lenin on the square of the Yashkul settlement (Republic of Kalmykia) Right: The jack (naval flag) on the first-rank cruiser Aurora (Saint Petersburg)
Some say it all began with the October Revolution.
The very one that tore the sky with crimson smoke and promised a new life. Back then, they glorified the leader and the symbol of the revolution’s dawn—the cruiser Aurora.
Kazan Cathedral (Saint Petersburg)
The bell tower of the Exaltation of the Cross Cathedral (St. Petersburg)
Some maintain faith alone offers redemption — that true freedom comes only to those who kneel at sacred altars.
The Pagoda of Seven Days in Elista (Republic of Kalmykia)
Left: Statue of the Bodhisattva Kṣitigarbha in the village of Yashkul (Republic of Kalmykia) Right: Chinese guardian lion shíza (Saint Petersburg)
What altar gives you wings matters little — so long as it carries your soul toward the light.
Grey Shrike at Liman Goly (Republic of Kalmykia)
The Ruined Bridge of Lake Svyatoye (Moscow Region)
Finally, others claim that freedom comes in the silence of contemplation—when time stands still and the world fractures into facets.
There it is: pure, impossible, sky-blue—like the first breath after a long fall. Like an epiphany one can never forget.
My name is Mitya Gusakov, I’m a 5th-year student at Institute No. 1 «Aircraft Engineering» of the Moscow Aviation Institute (National Research University). In 2020, I decided to dedicate my life to aviation—and I haven’t regretted it for a second. This field has given me so much that’s new and exciting, but nothing has stayed with me quite like the phrase «sky-blue freedom.»
There’s a tradition at our faculty (institute): every summer, after their 4th year, students travel to the Yaropolets training base outside the city for flight practice. For ten days, they immerse themselves in the essence of aviation, learn the basics of aircraft control, and—above all—simply revel in freedom.
The first time I heard that peculiar phrase — «sky-blue freedom» — was from the lips of a grizzled test pilot as we stood on the airfield.
It turns out there’s an unwritten rule at MAI: all training aircraft must be painted not just blue, not azure, but precisely sky-blue. Why?
«To not disrupt the harmony,» the old man smirked, tilting his head toward the heavens. «True freedom is when you’re not just flying—but becoming part of that endless blue. When the line between wings and sky dissolves…»
Left: Propeller of an An-2 aircraft (Yaropolets, Moscow region) Right: Yak-52 aircraft with MAI livery (Yaropolets, Moscow region)
«From that moment I knew: sky-blue was never merely a hue. It’s the soul’s condition. The very capacity to perceive freedom while mastering the heavens and gazing into the pristine, infinite firmament.»
The Lakhta Center (Saint Petersburg)
