Time of life Print

My mother was a cultured woman. It was her that poured the love for literature, music and painting into me hoping that I would carry on with her wrecked artistic career. I was around 5 when she was editing a drawing book for teachers. I was curiously watching her. “Draw a circle.” This was the first step towards discovering the soul. “This circle is the whole world itself.” – she told me. Since then, I've been drawing the circle, my circle, our circle, the world - I've been drawing the soul, the most beautiful and mysterious thing, sometimes full of happiness, sometimes frightening. I'm searching for the unknowable labyrinth of the soul, the microworld in the macroworld - I am searching for the light. I set off for the path of lines, walked pathless paths reaching worlds with opening and closing boundaries, I was deep in the dark and up in the clouds - I set off for the hourglass cemetery in the endless time. The whole world around me inspires my work: my grandmother's walnut cabinets, stones, rocks, walls peeling from saltpetre, mysterious figures in the grains of fence boards, fairies, flower birds, stars. While I'm at the school teaching, the lines of eyes, faces, lips and hands are flooding the last pages of my notebooks, whiffles of the soul. We gradually lose ourselves while we want to reach the farthest points of the world with state-of-the-art technologies though the miracle is within us and through the tunnels of the soul, we can reach the light.