Imagine you wake up in the morning and notice that it is snowing or raining outside, everything seems bloody unreal, as if everything around is abandoned or just drawn by pencil, and looks just as a shell of what has been hidden from you. Then you drowsily look out in the mirror and touch your skin, feel the surface and you get occupied with a strange sense... what if all these mornings reiterate? Even worse, what if all days and nights become the same? What if you do not even have to imagine it, you are already feeling it now? Day in, day out you struggle to express that feeling, to give it a shape. You wish it so much, but you can’t find any talent, not even a damn gift in yourself, that would justify your wish to portray those subtle things that hide behind the surface. Finally you just put up with it, that it is not given to you. So sad about it.
And now, just for a moment, if you can, imagine that someone still cares about that. About the matters of your soul. If one morning you could just find the way to show them, would you take advantage of it? And if you could find people who wished to share with theirs, would you dare to embrace them? Matters of the soul are like colourful glass bubbles, the details that fill your lungs with fresh air. They colour your life and tickle the palate. Sometimes they make you shiver. Sometimes you have an exciting tingling sensation on the skin. Sometimes they look like sins. And sometimes they come into the world as photos, which come out as exhibitions, out of which communication is born. It is not an show of our skills and not even a praise, it is a share of the light of the human soul. The art should not be competitive. It is enough for it to be true and fresh. Let’s consider it as our proposal.