Ballpen Bic and colour pencils on paper
65 x 90 cm
I couldn’t live there any longer. That was neither Life nor Death. I still remember the fire and the blood. The absolute darkness, those burnt, leafless woods. That dreadful silence, exclusively broken by the ticking of the clock reminding me how long was left to live. It’s so hard to die when one longs for death! Little by little walls, rooms and the very house began to crumble, defeated by an inner fire that rebelled, overflowed, that took revenge.