Based on true story. I stepped into the dark and frowsty space where I saw familiar figures. Some of them were waiting, some were doing something, some were not even really there. Time passed and not much happened, only the floor remained still, and the sofa, and the facade of the house across the street in the window frame.

It was the documentation of reality what I was interested in, but reality is, though, fragmented, chaotic, and totally subjective. It changes as I change my viewpoint. So, there was nothing else for it but to deal with this fragmentariness and chaos that we live in. We soak in it, we suffer from it, we lose ourselves in it, or we forger about it completely. We devise tactics to cope with it, and these tactics constitute the way of our existance.

In my pictures, the floor collides with the ceiling, yesterday with tomorrow, East with West, sense with sensibility, (pride with prejudice), magic with realism, movie chracters with childhood memories. It is amidst these that the characters of my paintings stumble around, who are very familiar with both insecurity, waiting and fragmentariness: urban y and z generation artists, intellectuals, students, stragglers, reprobats, unemployed graduates, half-children, post-adolescent just-already-adults, who are always in connection, and yet can never really connect; they sit on the border of night and day.