top of page


At the ground. We remain at the ground. The conditions are not as... the life is not as we wished. If this were all different... - everything in dreams is more beautiful.
We consider ourselves good fellows as we are holding on. Adequately holding on as the ground sucks us into the dungeon. We'll awaken when the time has flown by and we already can’t take wings.


Prague. Sparkling prosecco. Coffee... Experimenting in anticipation of blues. Neither melancholia nor sadness. Everything is like the blues. 
  • 21 x 29

    paper, ink

  • 2019

bottom of page