Street

Again, I climb up the stairs to my workshop. It’s a bit cold, I light the fire. There is a black canvas next to the fireplace, my old leather jacket is thrown carelessly on it, some torn out book pages are scattered around.

I find a photo of a muscled man... hmm, I scotch-tape it to the black canvas. I sit for a while and look at my old jacket, the black canvas and the photo… Some time has passed, one more cigarette smoked… All this fits well together, I think…

I would like the character to become a symbol of a certain moment. It’s not that important where exactly he is shown, his nature is what matters. Partially, I work by intuition, without giving much thought about details…

…black canvas, a little of grey, very little of white… very little, just as a subtle hint...