Painting, drawing – any kind of creative process in fact – has been a fundamental part of me since my childhood. I devoted all my free time to it. It was an inner need of mine, an internal activity which I didn’t show off too much. My parents surely noticed this, but they didn’t attribute much importance to it. They probably considered it a symptom of puberty.
Naturally, I wrote verses at the time too, I tried directing and playing theatre… Luckily nobody got the idea to train me professionally. They would surely have taught me how things are done correctly, in a way that would satisfy the conventions of the period. I preferred to do everything my own way and relied on my own feelings and perception of the world. Which meant there were lots of mistakes and blind alleys.
When looking at some of my pieces many years later, I can see that these alleys might not have been as blind as they seemed – only the form and technical realization weren’t often professional enough.