I am drawing your hand, your hand made of ivory, delicate and fragile; I am drawing your finger; your finger as flawless branches of the tree of knowledge, thin and ethereal; exquisite and refined; I am drawing your palm; palm of your hand as the Amazonasbasin on a world map, with imposing mess on inflows; I am drawing your forearm, your precious scepter, light as sailing, mesmerizing as lightning; I am drawing your upper arm, smooth and hairless as the skin of the sucking child; then I give you my hand and lead you out of the snow-white Endlessness, in a real world, in a real Terra; yet drunk with obsessive passion, besotted and infatuated, vanishes from my remembrance, that the carnal wholeness fails you; thus I’ll take you back to the place of your diabolical genesis and draw further; I am drawing your distinctive visage, a visage with debonair Horus eyes that spellbind each mortal man like a merciless enchantress; Horus eyes shielded from the cohort of respectable batting and covered with flexible shafts of the brow; a striking visage with formidable cheekbones and meaningful lips, that welcome passionately each amorous bewitched homunculus; I am drawing your noble torso, delicate as the American quaking aspen in the late Maytime; your subtly rounded décolleté with precisely defined clavicles, which are as lethal as tongs of black Scorpion, I am drawing your pear-shaped lower body, which I would bite with full indulgence without pressing the sharp mandibles, and notably I am drawing with a peculiar and beardsleyanic meticulousness the illustrious entree to your demonic interior; with a horological accuracy I am drawing your glow belching fire mount in which sea of flames I would dissolve with a radiant pleasure; what would be more auroral exitus than to finish the existence as a tiny part of your entireness and to trickle immortal into your bloodstream; oh, how gladly would I draw your legs, your infernal Terpsichorelegs, petite, graceful like champagne vessels filled with marvelous nectar, and the fettering fetter that fetterly fetter, dashing fetter that neither Amadeo, nor Egon could pour off; but unexpectedly I wake up from the fiery erotomania with a ridiculous realization, that the drawing is my unavoidable Waterloo, and because of your insentient ignorance I have to prefer my faithful companions; therefore I have to get along with my alphabetic symbols…
The Legend of Suram Fortress
"It’s hard enough to write a good drama, it’s much harder to write a good comedy, and it’s hardest of all to write a drama with comedy. Which is what life is".
- Jack Lemmon
“Woman is the sun, an extraordinary creature, one that makes the imagination gallop. Woman is also the element of conflict. With whom do you argue? With a woman, of course. Not with a friend, because he accepted all your defects the moment he found you. Besides, woman is mother-have we forgotten?”
- Marcello Mastroiani
“My images were surreal simply in the sense that my vision brought out the fantastic dimension of reality. My only aim was to express reality, for there is nothing more surreal than reality itself. If reality fails to fill us with wonder, it is because we have fallen into the habit of seeing it as ordinary.”
"I do not document anything, I give an interpretation".
- Andre Kertesz
"A negative is never finished".
- Sigmar Polke
"If you don’t have trouble paying the rent, you have trouble doing something else; one needs just a certain amount of trouble".
- Robert Rauschenberg
"I need, absolutely, to be alone".
- Jeanne Moreau
"Great passions, my dear, don’t exist: they’re liars fantasies. What do exist are little loves that may last for a short or a longer while".
"Take pictures of what you fear".
- Diane Arbus