Happiness is a pet bird in our courtyard

“The sun falls on the glass wall, the alley cats lounge on my windowsill, the radio is always tuned to the Third Programme. The monotonous sound of the pencil on the canvas and the smell rising from the greasy graphite work on me like the intoxicating vapours on the Pythia. I need to paint something old, something whose corners the patina of time has worn away, making it sweet, calm and comforting. Outside my studio the new ‘war’ is raging, but in here, happy and protected, I coexist with the creatures of my mind and my hand in a timeless universe free of danger”.