Once upon a time, I became absolutely attached to photography. We have been together for so long…
Fascinated by the naked woman, over those years we tinkered with light and made a lot of sketches. We fuelled each other with enthusiasm and approached new projects with leaps and bounds. We became very close to each other. So much that I did not know how to gently tell it that it had become too banal, too predictable, just too easy for me.
I closed the door behind me and we separated without any guilt or division of property. No fuss, no offence, everyone went their own way. I promised that I would take care of our sketches. I was worried how I would cope without it. What will happen when our sketches mature and start to turn into paintings?
Today, I paint pictures from the sketches born from this relationship. We became friends. I am getting to know it again. Sometimes I admit how little I knew about it. When I photograph the reproductions of paintings, I feel ashamed because I remember thinking about it: “you are so easy.”
