Pictures are like invisible tunnels, leading to invisible worlds, that exist next to our reality. I often feel,that everything I have drawn, starts its own real life somewhere else – lotuses bloom, princesses do their laundry or prepare herring with cinnamon.
The sound of ticking clock releases letters – the ones I have never written.
The family of elephants inhabit the cat’s whiskers.
Castles, apples and lost keys slumber in the drawers.
Orange fish prepares for hibernation inside the blue piano,somebody loses a shoe.
A small fox tries to gnaw at a hammock rope to which a huge tower is...more
